


A Samurai in Hogwarts

by The_Jade_Samurai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Begins during GoF, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Harry is a badass, Harry was raised in Japan, Samurai!Harry, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-12-28 09:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21134294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jade_Samurai/pseuds/The_Jade_Samurai
Summary: Harry Potter, raised by Sirius Black in Japan alongside the last surviving clan of samurai warriors, must return to the UK after many years when it is revealed that his name is put in the Goblet of Fire. It is a very different Harry that comes to Hogwarts, wearing odd clothing, a different hairstyle and a snow leopard cub as a pet! What else does the new Fourth Hogwarts Champion have up his sleeve?Starts during the events of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a story I originally put up on my old FF.net account, but I've decided to change it completely and basically rewrite the story from scratch. This is a major AU where Harry was raised by Sirius in Japan and trained to become a samurai warrior. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Sirius felt that there was something very wrong during the Order meeting. Without James at his side, it was difficult to pay attention to anything serious, but that wasn't what was making him uneasy. Remus was gone, having locked himself away for the night because it was the full moon, and James and Lily were both in hiding with their little boy Harry. But Peter should have been here at this meeting alongside him. Tonight was a mandatory Order of the Phoenix meeting as they discussed plans to counterattack Voldemort's forces, and Halloween was the best time for everyone still alive to gather, excluding Dumbledore and those teachers who were also in the Order as they had to attend the Halloween feast at Hogwarts.

  
But Peter wasn't here, and there no reason why he shouldn't be, unless...

  
Sirius straightened up as his heart filled with worry. By no means was Peter a skilled wizard, making him a non-suspect and the perfect candidate to be the Potters' Secret Keeper. He should be safe, unless Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters somehow got to him.

  
“Sirius, are you listening?” said a gruff voice that snapped the last male Black out of his reverie. Sirius looked up to see most of the gathered Order members looking at him expectantly.

  
“Sorry, what did you say?” he asked.

  
“Do you know where Pettigrew is?” asked Mad-Eye Moody impatiently.

  
“Not a clue,” said Sirius, “I thought that he would be here, but I don't know why he isn't.”

  
There was a tense silence following Sirius's statement, with many of the Order thinking of the worst. The only reason why someone couldn't make it was if they were in hiding like the Potters and Longbottoms, or they were in danger.

  
“You'd best be heading off to check on your little friend then,” said Moody.

  
Sirius wasted no time and launched himself out of his chair and headed out of the house which belonged to Dedalus Diggle, then Disapparated off the front porch. He Appparated a second later out the front of Peter's house, and instantly noticed that something was very, very wrong.  
For one thing, nobody was home. Sirius tried to reason with himself that Peter was just out somewhere tonight and had probably forgotten that he was supposed to be attending a meeting. Sirius wouldn't put it past his friend, but then he remembered that Peter had checked up with him earlier that morning to see if he was going. Peter's memory wasn't _that_ bad.

  
Sirius's second fear was realised when he tried knocking on the front door, only for the door to swing wide open. That fear he had in his chest only doubled then as he pushed inside. It was dark and cold, signs that nobody had been here all day.

  
“Peter? _Peter?!_” shouted Sirius. There was no answer, and for a moment he feared that his friend was dead. Then he remembered that there was no Dark Mark hovering in the air above Peter's house, and Sirius began to be suspicious. Where was Peter? He'd been ordered to stay at home unless there was a meeting in order to protect not only himself, but also James, Lily and Harry.

  
I need to get to Godric's Hollow, thought Sirius. He twisted on the spot and Disapparated to his house, hopped onto his enchanted motorcycle and kicked off into the air heading South. Sirius arrived just outside the little Welsh village nearly half an hour later, which was too long in his opinion. Muggle Children were out and about wearing costumes and holding bags half-full with lollies and chocolate, going from door to door while their parents supervised. Sirius ignored them and marched at a brisk pace to where he knew the Potters' little cottage resided. When he smelled smoke, he picked up his pace to a run until he arrived at the cottage, or rather what was left of the cottage.

  
The door was completely gone, and from where Sirius knew Harry's room was billowed smoke, with the entire outside blown to nothingness. Sirius sprinted forward, uncaring of any potential danger to himself as he stepped into the house and over the ruined door towards the living room. The living room was completely destroyed, the furniture upturned and windows smashed to pieces. Sirius saw a long, thin piece of dark wood and instantly recognised it as James's wand. But where was his best friend?

  
Sirius left the living room and headed towards where he knew the staircase was, but when he rounded the corner he felt his legs almost give out as his breath left him completely. There was James, lying on his back on the floor next to the stairs, his face pale and eyes staring up at the ceiling lifelessly. Sirius collapsed onto his knees as he felt despair wash over him. James was dead, his best friend, the brother he chose, was gone.

  
But where were Lily and Harry? Sirius forced himself up onto his feet and staggered up the stairs, his vision blurred by unshed tears. He saw that the door to the nursery was blown off its hinges, with a dark-robed body lying in the doorway. Sirius realised it was Voldemort, his head bald and his eyes closed. He could have been mistaken for sleeping were it not for the anger that was etched onto his ghostly-pale features. Sirius decided to kick the body of the Dark Lord for good measure, and was startled when the entire body disintegrated into white ash that blew away.

  
Sirius didn't focus on the weird event and instead went inside the nursery. Lily's body lay on the floor, her once-sparkling emerald eyes devoid of life completely. Sirius felt like he'd been punched in the gut and he fell to his knees again. He cried openly as he thought of his two best friends, only twenty-one and already taken from this world. However, his grief was quickly replaced with anger as he thought of the one who had betrayed them.

  
Peter Pettigrew was the spy within the Order, not Remus. Sirius could have kicked himself for thinking that the werewolf was a traitor, when all along it had been the bloody _rat!_ Peter was not at the meeting because he had probably been revealing the Potters' location to his evil master! Sirius swore that when he found Wormtail he would give him the slowest death imaginable, and then he would-

  
A startled cry pulled Sirius out of his vicious thoughts. To his utter shock and relief, Harry was sitting in the crib, looking alive and well, except for the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. His looked up at his godfather with big green eyes so much like Lily's, then smiled widely, seemingly completely unaware of the carnage in front of him.

  
“Siri!” said the little one-year old baby happily.

  
Sirius sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve before standing up and walking over to the cot, then picked up Harry.

  
“Hey, Lil Prongs,” said Sirius. He held the boy tightly, then looked around the room. The entire back wall was completely obliterated with two bodies (actually, one) lying there, but Harry was completely fine. He had the bright red scar that was bleeding slightly still, but otherwise seemed unharmed. What happened here?

  
There was a loud thundering sound of something large coming into what was left of the cottage, and Sirius quickly pulled his wand out and aimed it towards the door while holding Harry protectively. The steps grew louder until an enormous shape appeared in the ruined doorway. Sirius was about to release the first curse until he recognised the bushy, black beard of the Hogwarts caretaker.

  
“Hagrid?!” exclaimed Sirius as he lowered his wand.

  
“Sirius? What're yeh doin’ here?” asked Hagrid in response.

  
“I could say the same to you,” retorted Sirius icily. “Who sent you?”

  
“Dumbledore did. He said that one o’ his instruments picked up somethin' wrong with the wards around the Potters place and knew that yeh must have betrayed them to You-Know-Who,” answered Hagrid.

  
Sirius blanched. “Dumbledore thinks _I_ betrayed Lily and James?!” he said “I'd die before I ever did something like that!”

  
“Well, you were their Secret Keeper, weren't ya?” retorted Hagrid hotly. He moved slightly so that he was towering over Sirius and Harry, his posture ready for a fight. Sirius knew that while Hagrid wasn't the most proficient at magic, it would take more than a few curses to bring the titanic man down, and he didn't have enough room to move around, especially while holding Harry.

  
Sirius shook his head. “I was never the Secret Keeper. Peter and I switched at the last second because everyone knows how close James and I were,” he explained.

  
Hagrid looked genuinely surprised at that and took a step back so that he wasn't appearing as intimidating.

  
“Merlin, we were wrong about yeh,” sighed Hagrid. Then he sniffed as a few tears fell from his beady eyes. “Lily an' James, both gone.”

  
Sirius felt the pang of sadness hit him again, but right now he needed to be strong for Harry. He was too young to understand what had just happened, but even if Voldemort was defeated, he still had a lot of followers who would be aching for the chance at revenge.

  
“I have to take Harry to safety,” said Sirius quietly as he adjusted his hold on the baby.

  
“I can help yeh with that,” offered Hagrid. “Dumbledore sent me to bring Harry to his last livin' relatives so they can look after him.”

  
“Last living rela...” Sirius trailed off as he remembered. _Lily's sister?!_

  
When Hagrid reached forward to take Harry, Sirius pulled away. “No, you can't take him to those people. They hate magic! They'll kill him if he goes there!” he said vehemently.

  
“Dumbledore said-“ began Hagrid.

  
“Dumbledore doesn't know Lily's sister and her husband like I do,” snapped Sirius. “They'll despise Harry for what he is and even probably try to beat the magic out of him.” He then looked down at the little boy, who was starting to fall asleep in his arms. “No, I have to get him far away from here, somewhere he'll be safe.”

  
“Where?” asked Hagrid.

  
“I have an idea, but I can't tell you,” said Sirius. “Just know that as Harry's godfather, I intend to do everything in my power to make sure that he will be as safe as he can be.”

  
“But-“ protested Hagrid, but by then Sirius was already pushing past him downstairs. He had made it just past the broken gate when Hagrid's voice stopped him.

  
“What do I tell Dumbledore?” he asked.

  
Sirius shrugged. “Just tell him that I wasn't Lily and James' Secret Keeper and that Peter Pettigrew was, and that I'm taking Harry somewhere safe,” he said. Then he added as an afterthought, “Oh, and take my bike. It'll take you to wherever Dumbledore's waiting for you no problem.”  
And with that, Sirius Disapparated with Harry, vanishing from Hagrid's sight.

* * *

It took a few weeks to get ready, what with having to discretely buy some clothes for Harry as well as the other supplies only a baby needed, as well as waiting for a response from the Ministry of Magic in Japan regarding his immigration. But by the end both Sirius and Harry were ready for their long journey away from Britain. However, it wasn't without incident.

  
The entire wizarding world was in full party mode, celebrating the downfall of Voldemort. Many of his supporters were being locked up left, right and centre, and the Ministry was having a hard time trying to ensure that the Statute of Secrecy was being upheld. Owls were flying everywhere, attracting many Muggles' attention, but Sirius wasn't bothered by that at all.

  
What was bothering him was that somehow the whole magical world knew that it was Harry who had somehow defeated Voldemort at the cost of his parents' lives, but Harry had disappeared and as such a massive search was currently being conducted. Sirius suspected that Dumbledore was trying to find the boy and bring him into his protection, but that was not his job. It was Sirius's job as Harry's godfather to protect the boy and that Lily and James were both gone, and that was what he was going to do.

  
The problem with the wizarding world being on the lookout for Harry was that Sirius had to find other methods to get them both out of the country safely and inconspicuously. He’d settled on leaving the Muggle way, by plane, as he believed that the Ministry and Dumbledore wouldn't consider the idea of either himself or Harry escaping by any method that wasn't magical.

  
And so, it was a long, gruelling flight that lasted many hours before the plane finally touched down in Narita Airport, Japan. Both Sirius and Harry were exhausted by the long journey, and Harry was particularly grumpy as he constantly fidgeted in the older man's arms. They both got through customs no problem, but now the second part of their journey began; finding the Japanese Ministry of Magic.

  
The train ride from Narita to Tokyo lasted nearly an hour and a half, during which both Sirius and Harry slept fitfully. Thankfully, because it was midday, the trains weren't very packed, though Sirius noticed he got more than a few curious looks from the locals, and by curious he meant they were all from young women who giggled when he caught their eyes. Maybe a few weeks ago, Sirius would have launched at the opportunity to use his charms on the fairer sex, but now his priorities had completely changed and were now focussed on the boy sleeping in his arms. That and he couldn't speak Japanese.

  
Eventually the two British wizards stopped off at a station that Sirius couldn't even pronounce, which was supposedly located close to the Japan Ministry of Magic. The visitor's entrance was a bathroom, and like a few of the entrances into Britain's Ministry, Sirius had to step into the toilet and flush himself in.

  
Sirius and Harry appeared in a spacious atrium far grander than the British Ministry's atrium. The walls were bright red, with numerous moving murals of dragons and warriors dancing together and pointing at the numerous magical folk walking everywhere. Origami cranes and dragons flew over the heads of the Ministry workers while at the Floo entrances, newspaper agencies and salesmen tried to sell their products to incoming and outgoing workers. Sirius noticed that they practically ignored him and Harry as they walked past.

  
Much like the British Ministry, there were two impressive statues over the tops of water fountains, but far more impressive. They depicted a samurai warrior, clad in traditional armour and wielding a katana in a battle against a mighty, humanoid demon with a fearsome face And horns and many arms, while to the side smaller creatures and a beautiful Japanese woman looked on in awe of the climactic battle. Sirius noticed that the demon's eyes were actually large rubies that seemed to follow his movements, making him feel slightly uncomfortable as he walked over to the reception desk.

  
The person at the desk was a short, thin young man with short, spiky black hair and a bored expression on his face while wearing a security guard's outfit.

  
“Um, my name is Sirius Black and I'm here to see the Department of Immigration Head,” said Sirius.

  
The security guard just gave him a blank look in response. Sirius sighed and pulled out a piece of paper and his wand, then tapped the paper. Instantly Japanese characters appeared in the sentence Sirius was trying to say, and he handed it to the guard. The guard read the paper, then understanding came across his face. The guard tapped the paper with his own wand, and the characters on the page warped into a set of directions written in English. Sirius thanked the guard and with Harry, headed over to the elevators.

  
The trip from the atrium to the Department of Immigration office was surprisingly short, and there was already someone waiting for Sirius and Harry. He was a short, plump middle-aged man with tidy hair and a moustache wearing a stylish set of dark robes.

  
“Sirius Black, I presume?” said the man in fluent, but heavily accented English.

  
“That would be me,” answered Sirius. The man smiled warmly.

  
“I am Takumi Omura, Head of the Department of Immigration” he said. Then he noticed Harry sleeping soundly. “This is the boy you mentioned in your letter?”

  
“This is Harry Potter,” said Sirius.

  
“The one who defeated your Dark Lord,” said Omura.

  
“And is in incredible danger because of it,” added Sirius.

  
Omura nodded his head, a serious expression coming across his face before he directed the two newcomers into his office. Once the door was closed, a china cup full of tea floated over to Sirius, which he accepted. He took a sip, then frowned. It was green tea and had a taste that he wasn't sure he liked, but out of politeness, he kept drinking it.

  
“You have come to Japan at great sacrifice to both yourself and the boy,” noted Omura.

  
“Britain is still swarming with Voldemort's supporters, even if the Dark Lord himself is vanquished,” replied Sirius. “Leaving the country was the only way I could think of to protect Harry.”

  
“And what of your friends and family?” asked Omura.

  
“My closest friends will understand, even if they don't know where I've gone. And I am dead to my family anyway,” said Sirius. He then adjusted Harry slightly to relieve the stress in his tiring arms. “What can be done to protect him here?”

  
“An excellent question,” said Omura. W8tha flick of his wand, several pieces of parchment flew to rest on the desk in front of Sirius. “Here are the documents for you to be staying with one of Japan's most prestigious Pureblood families,” he added. “They are an ancient family with protections around their home to rival even Hogwarts' wards. And they do not carry any of that bigotry your country do not seem to have overcome, so your charge will be treated as one of their own.”

  
Sirius looked at the documents in front of him. He and Sirius were possibly going to be living with a family as old as the Black family, the Yoshinaga clan. They lived somewhere in the mountains near a place called Niigata Prefecture, which was on the western side of the main island of Japan. It seemed like a remote area, though Niigata city was not too far away, especially if one could simply Apparate there.

  
“Have they accepted the offer?” asked Sirius.

  
“Indeed they have,” answered Omura. “The Yoshinaga have long defended magical Japan from our own Dark Lords and sorcerers, training only the finest warriors in our nation's history.” When Sirius maintained a blank expression, Omura added, “They are samurai.”

  
“Samurai?” questioned Sirius. “I wasn't aware that they still existed.”

  
“There are only a few hundred left in all of Japan and the world,” explained Omura, “but the Yoshinaga clan have managed to maintain the craft for hundreds of years, even after the rest of the wizarding world has modernised itself. Under Lord Yoshinaga's tutelage, Mister Potter will become a great warrior.”

  
“Why do you want him to be trained as a samurai? I read in history books that outsiders were strictly forbidden from learning to be one,” said Sirius.

  
“Under normal circumstances, the Lord Yoshinaga would have declined to teach and harbour the boy. But you said in your letter to us that you feared that Lord Voldemort was not truly defeated and may return,” said Omura. “As a champion of the Light, Lord Yoshinaga thought it imperative that the boy be as prepared as possible for the Dark Lord's return, because the last time a Dark wizard declared war on the world, he convinced many Japanese witches and wizards to join the Dark, and we have suffered ever since.”

  
Sirius knew that Omura was talking about Grindelwald, whose actions had kick-started World War II and led to the deaths of millions of people.

  
“Who is this Lord Yoshinaga?” asked Sirius.

  
“Think of him as Japan's very own Albus Dumbledore, only slightly younger. Were it not for his efforts with his samurai wizards, Japan would be a much darker place than it is now,” said Omura with a small smile. Sirius chuckled quietly to himself at the thought of the Hogwarts' Headmaster wearing samurai armour and wielding a sword instead of the outrageous robes he was infamous for wearing.

  
“Okay, I think I understand now,” said Sirius. “When do we leave for Niigata?”

  
“As soon as you are well enough to travel,” answered Omura. "Lord Yoshinaga is already expecting you."

  
And so it was that Sirius, clutching the waking Harry while bundled up in thick winter clothing, stood at the bottom of the stairs in front of a massive, red painted torii gate, with the magnificent Japanese castle looming high above them. Sirius sighed and looked at boy he was holding. Harry was looking around at his new surroundings with wide eyes, and Sirius felt like he could understand the baby's wonder. He'd never seen anything so grand or spectacular, this castle in the mountains. While from the outside it certainly wasn't as large as Hogwarts, it no doubt still instilled a sense of amazement and wonder within one's soul.

  
“Well Lil Prongs, looks like we're gonna be living here from now on,” said Sirius. Harry let out a delighted squeal, and with a sigh, Sirius began the long march up to the castle, towards their destiny.


	2. Thirteen Years Later

Harry hit the sandy ground hard, the breath knocked out of his lungs. He grunted and tried to suck in a deep breath while getting up at the same time, but a long object slammed into his back hard and sent him back onto his stomach. Harry coughed in pain, the rolled around to see the end of the wooden bokken pointing directly at his throat. Holding the wooden sword was a middle-aged Japanese man with long, dark hair pulled up in a traditional topknot, tanned skin and a well-trimmed goatee, and he was wearing a navy-blue training hakama.

  
“_You still fight like a gaijin_,” said the man in Japanese.

  
“_What does that even mean?_” grumbled Harry back in the same language.

  
“_It means you're still too impulsive, I can read you like a book before you even act_,” snapped the man as he lightly smacked the bokken over the top of Harry's head, making the boy yelp in surprise.

  
“_Sorry sensei_,” said Harry while he rubbed the spot on his head where he got smacked, then brushed the dirt off his clothing.

  
The sensei shook his head. “_Despite your various flaws that need serious improvement, you are still somehow the best student I have ever taught,_” he grumbled.

  
Despite the obvious insult imbedded in the compliment, Harry smiled. His teacher, Sakamoto rarely gave compliments, saying that the best warriors were the ones who didn't let their skills get to their head and instead worked on constantly improving their abilities to perfection. He was a hard man, but their was a reason why he was Lord Yoshinaga's right-hand man. Sakamoto was a legend in the Japanese wizarding community, second only to Lord Yoshinaga in terms of skill both as a wizard and a samurai, and also in regards to the amount of respect he commanded. Harry was honoured to be his student to say the least. He'd been training under the sword master ever since he was old enough to pick up a stick, and since then there hadn't been a day that went by where he wasn't learning and improving his swordsmanship, unarmed combat, magic and just about every other aspect of his life.

  
“Harry!” said a feminine voice that instantly helped brighten Harry's mood.

  
Harry turned around to see Lord Yoshinaga's only daughter, Ami, approaching with an excited look on her face. She was a petite little thing, standing barely up to Harry's chin at full height, with long, shiny black hair smooth as silk that fell down to her shoulders. Her skin was lightly-tanned and unblemished, and her face round and smooth. She was currently wearing modern clothes consisting of a dark blue, flowery blouse and jeans along with a pair of Converse shoes.

  
Harry instantly felt himself straighten up as Ami came closer, something he knew that Sakamoto picked up on. But Harry didn't care, because the big smile on Ami's face completely drowned out everything else.

  
“_Happy birthday Harry!_” said Ami once she came closer before enveloping the newly-turned fourteen year old in a tight hug that made Harry blush. By nature, Japanese people were not physically affectionate people, something Harry himself shared but Ami was the exception to that rule. She was a hugger, and often teased Harry about his apparent allergy to affection. But he didn't mind, so long as it was either her or Sirius who hugged him.

  
“_Thank you Ami,_” said Harry once the other girl let go of him. Ami was the only person who lived tin the castle that was of a similar age as Harry, as all the other children were either several years younger or older than them and thus they naturally came together as best friends.

  
“_Is there a particular reason why you are interrupting my lesson with my student?_” asked Sakamoto impatiently. Ami may be the daughter of his lord, but on the training ground, Sakamoto was the man in charge.

  
“_Yes actually. My father and Sirius-san wish to speak with Harry,_” answered Ami. She gave Sakamoto a challenging look, as if daring her to contradict an order from the lord of Yoshinaga castle.

  
Sakamoto scowled as he folded his arms across his chest, but then he relented. “_Give me your bokken Potter. And come back straight away once Lord Yoshinaga is done with you_,” he said in a gruff voice.

  
“_Yes sensei_,” said Harry before bowing and following Ami up to the main keep of the castle.

  
Ami laughed as she ran through the open hallways while Harry kept up with her easily, passing by another, larger training yard where dozens of samurai were practising their kata as one, going through each motion at the command of their instructor. They passed the gardens, which were green with the summer leaves which would soon turn red and yellow when autumn arrived in a month's time. The two young teenagers passed a few servants on their way to the main keep, who looked on affectionately as they were used to seeing the two kids acting as they were now.

  
The entire Yoshinaga castle was a preserved piece of feudal Japan, almost a millennium old yet still in perfect condition. It was situated on the side of a mountain and protected by magical wards that kept Tokojin (Non magical folk) and intruders away. The entire castle was built almost completely out of wood, except for the outer walls and foundations it rested upon. Most of the pillars were painted red, the walls white and the roofs made of red tiles. In between the five keeps were several gardens and training yards, with wooden bridges that connected everything together between the sheer cliffs of the mountainside. Its location on the side of a mountain in Niigata Prefecture made it almost impossible to assault from the outside, and its many passageways through the mountains made it easy to access for supplies and welcomed visitors.

  
Once inside the main keep, Harry and Ami slowed down to a walk in order to show proper decorum and respect. Ami's face was red and she was breathing a little heavily, but Harry was perfectly fine thanks to his training. Ami gave him an annoyed grimace, to which Harry responded by smirking before they headed inside to the main throne room.

  
Japan no longer had a magical emperor, though if they were to have one, Lord Yoshinaga would be it. The throne room, while simple in its design with its paper walls and tatami floor mats, no doubt held an air of power and authority in it. Several men dressed in samurai armour, each as unique as the last with various decorations, styles and colour stood at attention to the side walls, five on each side with the hands resting on the pommels of their katana.

  
On the bottom dais stood Sirius, wearing a black leather jacket and jeans with his long , curly brown hair tied up in a bun at the back of his head. His beard was short but thick and well-groomed, and he had a smirk on his face that indicated that he had something exciting to tell Harry. And, sitting on the wooden chair that was the throne was Lord Yoshinaga himself.

  
Lord Yoshinaga was tall for a Japanese man, as tall as Sirius with a bald head due to a magical sickness that he had almost killed him many years ago, though his thinning moustache and goatee was looked after carefully. He was wearing a men's kimono, black with gold and white trimmings with the sleeves embroidered with snarling golden dragons. His dark eyes were small but filled with cunning, but softened at the sight of his daughter and Harry.

  
Harry bowed low at the waist in respect to his master, then straightened while Ami went to stand at her father's side. Sirius grinned and winked at his godson, and Harry had to resist the urge to pole his tongue out in the presence of the samurai lord.

  
“Harry Potter,” said Yoshinaga in a deep, accented voice in English. “Congratulations on making it to your fourteenth year of your life.”

  
“Thank you, my lord,” answered Harry with another bow.

  
“I do apologise for taking you away from your lesson with Master Sakamoto, but I am afraid your godfather has some important news to tell you,” continued Yoshinaga.

  
Sirius stepped forward and held up three small pieces of paper. But then Harry realised they were tickets. He took one of them and his eyes widened. They were tickets to the Quidditch World Cup Final between Ireland and Bulgaria. Harry loved Quidditch almost as much as he loved training to be a samurai, and had followed the World Cup religiously for the past several months. Unfortunately the Japan team had been knocked out early, and so Harry had no team to support, so he didn't really care whether it was Ireland or Bulgaria who won. But tickets to the Final?!

  
“How did you-?” Harry began to ask, but Sirius cut him off.

  
“I may be a sort-of wanted fugitive back in Britain for your ‘kidnapping,’ but the Black family name still holds a lot of weight,” he said.

  
Harry was impressed by Sirius. However, he also noticed that the location of the World Cup final was in Devon, England. And there were three tickets. Obviously he and Sirius were going together, but who was the third ticket for?

  
“Isn't it a little dangerous for us to be going back to England?” asked Harry.

  
Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. “There are spells that can disguise us you know,” he replied.

  
Harry had to concede that point, but he was still curious as to who the third ticket was for. So he asked.

  
“This is for Ami,” said Sirius. Both Harry and Ami's eyes widened in surprise.

  
“What?” said Ami in English. She turned to her father. “I can go with Harry and Sirius-san?”

  
“On two conditions,” said Yoshinaga. He then stood up and gestured for Harry to come closer. Harry stood onto the dais so that he was on equal level to Sirius and bowed once more to Yoshinaga, who was now standing in front of him.

  
“Harry Potter, while you are not yet samurai, you show great promise to be one of our best,” said Yoshinaga. There was a kindness in his eyes that spoke of the pride he had for the youth that had lived under his care for the last thirteen years. “You have yet to test yourself on the field of battle, but your skills in the training yard have proven yourself a capable warrior. Your godfather and I have decided to reward you for your services by allowing you to attend the World Cup Final with Ami joining, seeing as her birthday is only a few days after yours way.

  
“However, there are conditions to this reward,” continued Yoshinaga before either Harry or Ami could say anything. He gave Harry a hard stare then. “Firstly, your main priority during this small holiday is to act as my daughter's bodyguard. As my last living heir, you are to go where she goes, watch her in everything she does and protect her from any and all harm. Do you understand this?”

  
“I do, my lord,” said Harry without hesitation.

  
“Excellent. And the second thing is to make sure you have fun,” said Yoshinaga. Harry looked up in surprise to see Yoshinaga was grinning, his white teeth shining brightly. “What? Did you expect me to tell you to not have fun? Have many times have I told you to enjoy yourselves whenever I have allowed you to go to Niigata City?”

  
“Well, you've never told us not to have fun,” conceded Harry. Yoshinaga chuckled deeply and bid Harry stand.

  
With a sleight of his hand (or rather it was actual magic) he pulled out a katana and wakizashi sheathed in black and red scabbards. Harry looked upon the offered weapons in shock, and behind him, even the samurai were looking at the spectacle curiously.

  
“You are not yet samurai, and as such these weapons have not been sealed to your magic yet,” explained Yoshinaga. “But prove yourself, and in time, you will become samurai.”

“Thank you, my lord,” said Harry gratefully as he accepted the weapons. While most wizards around the world used wands to control manifest their magic, samurai believed that their sword was a representation of their soul. Wizarding samurai took this belief into a more literal sense and created magical swords that worked very similar to a wand, albeit in a more offensive manner. A samurai was devoted to the fight, and everything in their lives centred around the perfection of the art of war. Harry had been raised similarly and upheld those same beliefs.

  
Harry tucked his new katana and wakizashi into his obi, and took in the proud smiles on Sirius and Ami's faces. Ami's pride in particular made Harry feel warm inside, and he felt a tremendous honour at having been the one selected to protect her while in Great Britain. Yoshinaga could have picked any one of his more experienced warriors, but instead chose Harry, the young gaijin with no parents and by all accounts should have been an outsider.

  
Harry bowed one more time before leaving the throne room, back to his lesson with Sakamoto.

* * *

“Bloody hell Sirius, we're going back to England!” exclaimed Harry happily during dinner.

  
The boy and his godfather were in their private quarters of the castle having dinner in one of the tatami rooms. Sirius personally had never felt comfortable kneeling on the mats and eating food with chopsticks, but Harry had taken to the culture as if he was Japanese himself. That being said, Harry remembered no other life besides the one spent in Yoshinaga castle, and were it not for a few of his very European features, one could mistake him for a Japanese teenager.

  
Sure, Harry was taller than most boys his age in this country, but with his lean frame, fair skin and black hair, he could easily be mistaken for a Japanese person. Sirius thought that Harry needed a haircut as his hair was no longer as messy as it usually was, having grown to cover his ears and too long to stick up in every direction. His eyesight was once as poor as his father's, but some complex charms had healed his eyes completely so he no longer needed glasses. His eyes, like Lily's had been, were his most stunning feature, emerald green that would sometimes flare up like the fires of the Floo Network when he was emotionally stimulated.

  
Sirius was proud of the young man Harry was becoming, and was pleased that he had had a small hand in that, but his greatest regret was that neither James nor Lily were alive to witness it themselves. But he was certain that they were as proud of Harry as he was, wherever they were now.

  
“And Ami's coming as well!” continued Harry, completely oblivious to Sirius's observations. “It'll be fun to watch the game with her. I mean, none of us are fans of Ireland or Bulgaria, but Viktor Krum is a legend! It'll be awesome watching him play, maybe I should ask Ami what she thinks about him or the Ireland Chasers...”

  
Sirius tuned out again. Harry and Ami were close, always had been seeing as they were the only two in the castle of a similar age. Harry was only a few days older than Ami, and ever since they had meet they'd been inseparable. Ami's mother had died giving birth to her, leaving her as the only offspring to Lord Yoshinaga and thus the samurai lord was fiercely protective of her. So it was a surprise when Lord Yoshinaga said that Sirius could take both Harry and Ami to England, even if it was only for a week.

  
However, Sirius suspected that Harry's feelings for Ami were stronger than friendly or even familial. Judging by the way he was talking about her tonight alone, it seemed like the boy was rather infatuated with her, even if Harry himself didn't seem to realise it. Ah, to be young and in love again. Sirius remembered a time when he was Hogwarts’ resident ladies' man. He was pretty certain that he'd never settle down with a nice woman and raise a family of his own, but boy, these Potter men sure did love completely and wholeheartedly. James had never had eyes on any girl except for Lily, and if Harry were anything like his father, he'd probably be no different with Ami if things worked out.

  
Gosh, Sirius was getting too old to deal with a Potter's love life. That being said, it wasn't like Harry could turn to someone like Sakamoto for relationship advice, the samurai had the emotional range of a teaspoon! Sirius also wondered if Yoshinaga had noticed how close Harry and Ami had become, especially over the past several months. No doubt he had, nothing got past the greatest wizard in Japan easily, if at all.   
Sirius sighed loudly on accident, effectively ending Harry's long rant about his excitement to be going to England.

  
“Padfoot? What's wrong?” he asked worriedly.

  
“Huh? Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how we're gonna get to England on time,” said Sirius quickly.

  
“Well, we could always take one of those international portkeys the Ministry has,” suggested Harry.

  
“Probably, but at the same time I don't want to put either you or Ami in the line of the British Ministry's sight,” said Sirius.

  
“When the Ministry finds out that one of the world's most powerful wizard's daughter is attending the World Cup Final, that won't matter. Besides, you scored seats to the top box, where no doubt half of the magical world's government leaders will be watching the game anyway, “ pointed out Harry. Then he took a bite of some rice with raw salmon and added through a half-full mouth of food, “We know the charms necessary to create simple facial alterations anyway, so nobody will recognise us.”

  
“And what do you plan on disguising yourself as, hm?” asked Sirius.

  
“Easy, Ami's bodyguard, just like I'm supposed to,” answered Harry easily with a light shrug. “When people ask me who I am, I technically wouldn't be lying, though it would be funny if I pretended I don't know English.”

  
Sirius chuckled at that and ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. He really was his parents' son, equal parts responsible and mischief. 


	3. The Quidditch World Cup

Already, the fields surrounding Devon were packed full of witches and wizards all pitching their tents around the enormous stadium where the final would be held. Harry and Ami were both completely mesmerised by the amount of magic being shown off, from people flying over the sea of tents on broomsticks to the performers displaying impressive pieces of magic. Harry could only imagine the field day the Department of the Statute of Secrecy were having trying to cover up all the craziness going on. At one point Harry had to cover Ami's eyes to protect her from the sight of a middle-aged wizard wearing a too-short Muggle girl's skirt that was lifted up during a sudden wind, revealing things that should not be revealed.

  
Sirius had pitched their shared tent fairly close to where a water source was, right next to where a family of redheaded folk had pitched their two tents. They looked small on the outside, but Harry guessed that they had an expanding charm on the inside in order to fit everybody inside.

  
Harry kept a curious eye on the family while he kneeled outside the entrance to his shared tent in seiza position. There was a man with balding red hair, accompanied by seven eight others, six wizards and two witches. The youngest five looked to be about school-age, with the three youngest around Harry and Ami's age. Except for one witch, who had dark brown bushy hair, all of them had the same pale skin, freckles and fiery red hair. Harry was slightly intrigued by the family's hair. Living in Japan, Harry hadn't seen much differences in appearances of people unless someone dyed their hair an outrageous colour to stand out, so seeing natural redheads was a bit of an oddity to him.

  
Unfortunately, Harry’s staring caught the attention of the youngest redheaded boy, who glared back at him before whispering in the bushy-haired girl's ear. A few seconds later and he, the girl and the other redheaded girl were approaching him. Harry instinctively reached for the hilt of his katana, only to find that it wasn't nearby. He cursed himself, knowing that Sakamoto would give him a beating in the training yard if he found out that Harry had not kept his weapons on his person at all times. So he could do nothing but continue staring as the trio came up to him.

  
“Oi mate, do you have a problem?” asked, or rather demanded the red-haired boy. Harry schooled his features and was about to answer, but then an idea came to his head. Oh, he'd always wanted to do this.

  
“_Nan desu ka?_” he said.   
Instantly the three other teens' attitudes changed. Harry had spoken to them in a foreign language, and they weren't expecting it. Which was a little surprising seeing as Harry had a few charms on his face that turned his eyes dark brown and more slanted, making him look like a Japanese boy, or at the least half-Japanese and also hide the scar on his forehead. The redheaded boy looked surprised, while the redheaded girl rounded on him.

  
“Nice one Ron, picking on the foreigner,” she snapped.

  
“How was I supposed to know he can't speak English?!” defended the boy named Ron.

  
“Probably because he doesn't look like he's from here!” retorted the redhead girl.

  
“Ginny, Ron, enough, I think you're scaring the poor boy,” scolded the bushy-haired girl. Then she gave Harry a warm smile. “Do you speak English?” she asked.

  
“Little bit,” said Harry in his best Japanese accent impersonation.

  
“I am Hermione Granger,” she said. “And these are Ron and Ginny Weasley. What's your name?”

  
Before Harry could answer, Ami appeared from out of the tent. “Hanzo, Siri wants you to help him with- oh!” she exclaimed once she noticed the other three. Ron, Hermione and the other girl called Ginny all looked at the new arrival with various degrees of surprise on their face.

  
“Oh um, sorry,” stammered Hermione. “Do you speak English?”

  
“Yes I do,” answered Ami, her eyes narrowing slightly at Harry. Harry coughed to hide his snickering, but the others didn't seem to notice.

  
“Sorry, we were trying to ask your friend a question, but his English wasn't very good,” said Hermione.

  
“Oh really?” said Ami as she raised an eyebrow at Harry. “And what made you think that he can't speak English?”

  
“Well, he didn't seem to know what we were... wait a minute,” said Hermione. She paused, then looked at Harry suspiciously. “You're not Asian at all, are you? Can you speak English?”

  
Harry grinned mischievously before standing up and brushed a stray lock of hair which had escaped from the small bun at the back of his head out of his face. “Had you going there for a minute, didn't I?” he said cheekily.

  
Hermione, Ron And Ginny all looked stunned, before Ginny burst into laughter. Ron’s face turned red while Hermione stood there like a gaping fish.

  
“What ethnicity are you?” asked Hermione when she seemed to snap out of her shock.

  
“Half Japanese,” lied Harry easily. Before coming to England, he, Sirius and Ami had come with a plan to disguise Harry by making look half-caste. Sirius was going to be his blood-father who had absconded with a Japanese girl, and Ami was their friend who had joined them on their trip around Europe.

  
“I'm Hanzo Brown,” continued Harry as he bowed politely to the other three. The three British teens all bowed a little awkwardly in return, unfamiliar with the gesture.

  
“I am Ami Yoshinaga,” introduced Ami as she bowed too.

  
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. “Yoshinaga? Are you by any chance related to the same Yoshinaga who defeated the Dark wizard Shinamori in single-combat?”

  
Harry and Ami looked at the bushy-haired witch in surprise. “I am. I was under the impression that few people outside of Asia knew about my father,” said Ami.

  
“Hermione here is a bit of a bookworm,” explained Ginny. “She'll tell you everything about everything if she gets the chance.”

  
“Who's Yoshinaga?” asked Ron.

  
“Honestly Ron were you not paying attention to anything I just said?” said Hermione exasperatedly. “Yusuke Yoshinaga is one of the greatest wizards in Japan and most of Asia. He's basically Asia's version of Professor Dumbledore.”

  
“You guys are Hogwarts students?” asked Harry.

  
“Oh yes, we are. The three of us, and our whole family actually are all Gryffindors,” said Ginny.

  
“That's one of the school houses,” said Hermione.

  
“I know what it is, my father was a Gryffindor,” said Harry.

  
“Oh, your father went to Hogwarts as well?” said Hermione. “Maybe he's told you a bit about it then. I'm assuming you both go to Mahoutokoro school then?”

  
Harry inwardly cringed at Hermione's terrible pronunciation of Japan's magical school name, but he gave her props for trying at least.  
“No, we're both home-schooled,” said Ami in a regretful tone. “If you know about my father's deeds, then you might be familiar with my family's lineage,” she then directed towards Hermione.

  
Hermione's eyes widened again. “Oh! Your father is a samurai!” she exclaimed as if she had just guessed the correct answer to the prize question of a game show.

  
Ami nodded her head. “Don't go around telling people that though, it might cause trouble,” she warned however.

  
The three British kids nodded their acceptance, though Harry could tell that Hermione was about to burst with questions.

  
“So who are you supporting tonight?” asked Ron.

  
“Neither, I just came to watch a good game,” replied Harry with a nonchalant shrug.

  
“Neither?!” exclaimed Ron like the idea hadn't ever crossed his mind before. “Come on, there's gotta be one team you’re hoping wins tonight!”

  
“Well, Krum is a brilliant Seeker, probably the best in the world in my opinion,” said Harry, “but if Bulgaria wants to win he needs to catch the Snitch early, because the Ireland could stack up so many points it wouldn't matter who catches the Snitch in the end.”

  
“Fred and George made a similar prediction earlier,” said Ginny.

  
“Harry's a Quidditch fanatic,” said Ami, “and unfortunately for me, most of his predictions are right.”

  
“But you're not supporting any of the teams?” repeated Ron in disbelief.

  
“Like I said, I'm just here for a good game and a good time,” said Harry.

  
“Don't forget you're supposed to be making sure I don't get into trouble,” said Ami playfully as she lightly bumped Harry on the arm with a closed fist. Harry grinned and pushed her gently in response.

  
“So you're like Ami's bodyguard or something?” queried Ginny.

  
“Something like that,” said Harry. “But my father wanted to bring me to England for my fourteenth birthday seeing as I haven't been here since I was a baby.”

  
“And I just decided to come along for the ride,” said Ami.

  
“This trip is your birthday present as well,” reminded Harry.

  
“Minor details,” said Ami as she waved her hand like it was nothing.

  
Harry didn't think that her birthday was a minor detail, but he kept his mouth shut anyway. Just then one of the older redheads, a tall man with long hair tied up in a ponytail called out to Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

  
“Guys! Dad wants you to go find the water!” he said.

  
“Oh, bloody hell,” moaned Ron in annoyance. “Why can't Bill just get it himself?”

  
“He probably wants you to feel included in something, seeing as you're so useless at everything else,” teased Ginny. Ron gave his sister a dark look that made Harry grin.

  
“Well, I suppose we have to go now,” said Hermione. “It was nice to meet you Ami and Hanzo.”

  
Harry bowed politely while Ami went out of her way to hug the two other girls, then she asked, “Do you know where the water tap is?”

  
“Erm, no actually,” said Hermione.

  
“It's not far away, but if you want Hanzo and I can show you where it is? That way we don't have to separate just yet,” offered Ami. She was giving the three teenagers what Harry called ‘the Look,’ by widening her eyes slightly like a doe to make herself seem cuter and more innocent. The Look never failed to work on just about everybody but Sakamoto, who was immune to any sort of bribing anyway.

  
“Well, I suppose it would be good to learn more about magical Japan from people who are actually from there,” said Hermione.

  
“Excellent!” said Ami happily. “Ready to go Hanzo?”

  
“Just let me grab my daisho before Sakamoto appears out of nowhere to beat me,” said Harry. He quickly ducked into the tent and grabbed his swords, stuck them into his belt and went out again, and Ron, Hermione and Ginny's eyes widened at the appearance of the swords.

  
“Are those real?” asked Ginny.

  
“My daisho? Yeah, they are,” said Harry.

  
“So are you a samurai as well?” asked Ron.

  
Harry said, “No,” at the same time Ami said, “Yes,” and they both looked at each other in confusion.

  
“What do you mean no?” said Ami.

  
“What do you mean yes?” retorted Harry. He then switched to Japanese to say, “I haven't gone through the initiations yet Ami. My sword is not yet my soul.”

  
“Oh, who cares about that,” argued Ami, “You are samurai, even if you don't have your sei-daisho yet. Besides, Father wouldn't have asked you to be my bodyguard if he didn't think the same as me either.”

  
Harry wanted to argue further, but the challenging look in Ami's eyes suggested that he drop the argument before he got into trouble. So he sighed and suggested that they get a move on to the water tap. Everyone happily obliged his suggestion, and Ami walked in between Hermione and Ginny while Harry walked behind them with Ron.

  
Harry got to know Ron a little better during their trip to the water tap. He was the youngest son in the Weasley family, and every single one of them were Gryffindors. Ron was also an enormous Chudley Cannons fan, and proclaimed loudly that this coming League season was theirs for the taking, but Harry seriously doubted it. The Cannons’ reputation was so terrible that Japan had heard about them. Ron was hoping to get onto the House Quidditch team as Keeper this year as the spot had just opened up. From the way that Ron spoke however, Harry got a sense that the boy had a bit of an inferiority complex caused by living in the shadows of his older brothers.

  
Hermione was incredibly smart, if a little bossy, but she seemed to have a good heart and was genuinely interested in learning everything there was to know about magical Japan. Harry thought that the girl would get along famously with Ami's mother, Momoka who was also a huge bookworm and spent much of her free time pursuing knowledge.

  
Then there was Ginny, who seemed to be the most witty and mischievous of the three and the youngest Weasley in the family. She wasn't quite thirteen, but often cracked jokes that had Harry and Ami looking at her like she was crazy. Turned out she’d developed her wicked streak from observing two of her older brothers, twins by the name of Fred and George who were renowned pranksters at Hogwarts. Harry thought that Sirius would love to get to know the twins and trade stories.

  
Then Harry learned that the Weasleys and Hermione were going to be sitting in the top box for the final, which meant that Harry and Ami were going to be seeing more of them. Ami was ecstatic, and while Harry was pleased as well, he didn't show it as much as the Japanese girl did. He said that he looked forward to hanging out with them more that night and suggested that they all walk together to the stadium once at the ling to the water tap, before he and Ami left them to head back to the tent.

  
“_So, what do you think of them?_” asked Ami, switching to Japanese once they were out of earshot.

  
“_They were decent kids_,” answered Harry. “_People here are a lot more outgoing than what we're used to though. I kept thinking that Ron was going to have a brain aneurysm at some point with how boisterous he is_.”

  
“_Sirius is a lot like that though_,” pointed out Ami.

  
“_True, but he's mellowed out it the past few years_,” said Harry. Then he chuckled as a funny thought crossed his mind.

  
“_What?_” asked Ami.

  
“_I was just thinking of what Sakamoto-sensei would be thinking if he saw all this rowdiness,_” replied Harry.

  
Ami giggled. “_He would probably beat up anyone who got on his nerves too much_,” she said.

  
Harry laughed at that. Knowing that he was going to be hanging out with his new friends later only made him more excited for the game tonight. It was sure to be a spectacular event.

* * *

Harry's prediction came true far more than he realised. The stadium was completely packed, with people from all over the world having come to watch what was being called ‘the Game of the Century.’ Harry and Ami had each bought a pair of Omnioculars, which were very similar to Muggle binoculars except they allowed one to slow down and replay whatever images it captured. The stadium was split into equal parts green for Ireland and red and black for Bulgaria, though Harry and Ami decided to remain neutral for the game. Harry, Sirius and Ami were all wearing regular clothing, though Harry had a long trench coat to hide his daisho from prying eyes.

  
Ami looked completely excited as they climbed into the top box, where Harry could see several high-ranking government officials from various countries. He could see the British Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, who was trying to communicate with the Bulgarian Minister, who appeared to not be capable of speaking English. However, Harry suspected that the hard-looking man was just doing what Harry would do if he was in a situation where he didn't want to talk to someone; pretend to not know their language.

  
However, that did not seem to stop Fudge from coming over to speak to Ami. She looked at Harry when they both noticed the short man coming, and Harry nodded. No words needed to be said, as Harry knew that Ami intended to do the exact same thing that the Bulgarian Minister had done.

  
When Fudge was almost upon Ami, Harry stepped in the man's path, his arms crossed over his chest as he towered over him. Fudge looked surprised that Harry was even there, before his face turned red with annoyance.

  
“I would like to speak with Miss Yoshinaga,” said Fudge pompously.

  
“Her name is _Lady_ Yoshinaga,” corrected Harry, “and she has requested that nobody disturb her throughout the game unless she wishes it.”

  
“Now see here-“ began Fudge, but Harry held up a hand to silence him.

  
“I'm sorry, but Lady Yoshinaga's wishes cannot be denied,” he said calmly. On the inside though, Harry was fuming. He honestly felt sorry for anyone who had to put up with this man on a daily basis, because Harry would probably perform seppuku, not out of shame but rather to simply put himself out of his misery. That being said, he was having a good time putting the pompous Minister in his place.

  
“_It's okay Hanzo, let him speak_,” said Ami, who was trying to keep her expression neutral.

  
Harry stepped aside to let Fudge pass, who gave him a victorious look before pushing past Harry to approach Ami. Harry schooled his features to hide his frustration, then turned so that he could see and hear Ami and Fudge's conversation.

  
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss- er, Lady Yoshinaga,” said Fudge. Ami smiled and bowed her head politely, but said nothing which seemed to throw Fudge off a little. The Minister looked at Harry for help, so Harry translated, if only to help with the ruse.

  
“Your father and I are very good friends, you know,” continued Fudge. “I'm sure he might have mentioned my name in passing?”

  
“He may have mentioned it perhaps once or twice,” Harry translated. “But I don't pay attention to much of my father's business deeds. And besides, much of that is relegated to our Ministry instead of my father.”

  
Fudge looked taken aback by the reply, and glared at Harry as if it was somehow his fault. Harry merely shrugged as if to say, “I'm only the translator here, don't blame me.” Really though, the only time Lord Yoshinaga had ever mentioned Fudge was to describe him as a witless pig with no real sense of honour or leadership.

  
“If you wish, I would love for you to join me and some of my associates for the game,” offered Fudge. “Why, I believe that my good friend Lucius Malfoy is bringing his son along to watch the game, and he would be around your age!”

  
Something stirred in Harry at the mention of the name ‘Malfoy.’ He also noticed how a little off to the side, Sirius had stiffened his posture and his face tightened. That probably meant that he knew who Malfoy and his son were and it wasn't good.

  
“_This man is obviously truing to use me to get closer with Father,_” said Ami to Harry.

  
_“Obviously, he's a politician. If he can get someone on the same level as Dumbledore to be his friend, his political and social power would increase dramatically_,” agreed Harry. When Fudge looked to Harry for an answer, he said, “_Lady Yoshinaga is grateful for the offer, but unfortunately we have already promised ourselves to the company of others_.”

  
“Oh, um. Okay,” stuttered Fudge. Obviously he hadn't considered that Ami would actually turn him down. “Can I ask who?”

  
“Ami! Hanzo!” shouted another voice over the loud cheering. Harry and Ami turned to see the Weasleys and Hermione, led by Ginny coming into the top box. They had painted their faces green, making their red hair stand out outrageously like a leprechaun, waving Irish flags like madmen. The only one not supporting Ireland was Ron, who had painted half his face red and the other half black. He was also wearing a Bulgarian scarf around his neck and looked to be having the time of his life.

  
“Excuse us,” said Harry. He and Ami both bowed politely to Fudge, who looked rather baffled by the turn of events and went to greet their friends.

  
“Isn't this exciting?!” exclaimed Ginny happily once Harry and Ami came to them.

  
“A little louder than what we're used to but yeah, I can't wait for the game to start,” replied Harry with a grin. Then he leaned in so that Ginny, Ron and Hermione could hear. “Ami won't be talking in English much, we're playing a prank on your Minister for Magic.”

  
Ron and Ginny snickered, but Hermione looked affronted. “Hanzo, you really shouldn't disrespect the Minister like that,” she chided.

  
“Why? I'm pretty sure the Bulgarian Minister's doing the same thing,” said Harry. At that Hermione frowned and pursed her lips disapprovingly, but she eventually nodded her head and continued on to their seats.

  
“Hanzo, Ami, I'd like for you to meet my father,” said Ron.

  
Mr Weasley had the same red hair that his children possessed, though he was starting to bald and had a slightly round middle. However, his blue eyes were kind and filled with warmth as he bowed to both Harry and Ami.

  
“A pleasure to meet you two,” he said. “Ron and Ginny would not stop talking about you all afternoon, so I had to meet you to see for myself.”

  
“Nice to meet you sir,” said Harry while Ami repeated the sentiment in Japanese. Then Harry brought over Sirius, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “This is my father, Simon.”

  
Sirius looked nervous as Mr Weasley shook hands with him, and it wasn't until Mr Weasley’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of Harry's godfather did he realise his mistake. It was likely that the two men had known each other before Voldemort’s defeat, but Harry hoped that the Cosmetic Charms Sirius was under held.

  
Before Mr Weasley could say anything however, a man, a woman and a boy who was obviously their son who practically screamed aristocracy pushed past.

  
“Watch it Weasel,” snarled the boy to Ron. He was tall, with slicked back, platinum-blonde hair, pale skin and eyes so pale blue they almost looked grey. He had a snobbish expression on his face that reminded Harry of some of the Japan Ministry officials who didn't like samurai because of their traditional methods in dealing with threats such as Dark Lords or the many dangerous magical creatures that roamed the country.

  
“I don't know how you poor lot managed to get up here,” continued the blonde boy with that same snobby attitude.

  
Harry could see that Ron and the twins were getting angry, and to his annoyance, it seemed that the boys parents were doing nothing to curb their son's behaviour. Ami too looked shocked. If either one of them got caught talking down to somebody like that, their sensei would have beaten them with a bokken or their bare hands.

  
“Ah! Lucius! Good to see you!” proclaimed Fudge from behind Harry.

  
So this is the Malfoy family, thought Harry. Then he snorted. He was suddenly even more glad that Ami had declined the Minister's invitation now if it meant avoiding these jumped-up Purebloods. Unfortunately, his snort attracted the attention of the son, who gave Harry a look of disgust.

  
“Who are you?” he practically demanded.

  
“Hanzo Brown,” answered Harry stoically. He kept his posture straight and his expression devoid of emotion, which the boy seemed to take for stupidity because he smirked. Then he looked at Ami.

  
“And hello there,” he said. He tried to make a move towards her, but as fast as lightning, Harry drew his wakizashi and held it directly to the side, barring the boy's path. The boy's eyes widened in shock and there a few gasps, mostly from the women watching. Sirius just let out a barking laugh.

  
“Take one more step towards Lady Yoshinaga and we'll see what your insides look like from the outside,” warned Harry in aa low voice.

  
“Now hold on just a minute,” said Fudge placatingly.

  
“You don't get to tell me what to-“ began the boy.

  
“Did you just say Yoshinaga?” asked the boy's mother. Harry looked to the woman and simply nodded his head, keeping his smaller blade still in the way of the boy. The mother visibly paled and then walked over, grabbed her son by the arm and pulled him away from the wakizashi.

“Come Draco,” she said.

  
“But-“ began the boy known as Draco.

  
“No arguments,” said Malfoy Senior. Draco clammed his mouth shut and allowed his mother to drag him away, but not before he shot Harry a look that promised their confrontation was far from over.

  
“Lady Yoshinaga, please send my regards to your father,” said Malfoy Senior with a small bow before he spun around and followed his wife and child over to their seats.

  
“That was the coolest bloody thing I have ever seen,” said Ron in awe.

  
“I've never seen Malfoy or his dad back down so quickly before,” added Ginny. Then she looked at Ami. “What did you say your dad was famous for again?”

  
Just then, Ludo Bagman came to the top box and using the Sonorous charm, announced the beginning of the World Cup Final, ending all conversation. The two teams flew onto the field, all of them riding the legendary Firebolt brooms and performed laps around the entire Quidditch pitch. Many males, including just about all of the Weasleys except for Mr Weasley were affected by the appearance of the Bulgarian mascots, a group of Veela. Harry wasn't affected though. Years of training in self-discipline and Occlumency had made him immune to most forms of mental manipulation, and though he could feel the alluring pull from the Veelas' charms, it was little more than a nuisance, similar to a persistent mosquito.

  
Harry kept an eye on Malfoy and his family, but he didn't let that stop him from enjoying the game with Ami, Sirius and his new friends.


	4. The Dark Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews! They inspire me to keep writing this story!

Harry was positively exhausted by the time the game was over. The amount of excitement he had endured was a little more than he was used to, but he was so happy. Ami was just as happy, if her big smile and rapid Japanese to him were anything to go by. Ireland had won the World Cup, their Chasers having scored so many points that even though Krum had caught the Snitch, the extra one-hundred and fifty points to Bulgaria still wasn't enough to put them ahead.

  
Harry looked over his shoulder behind him to see Sirius talking with the two oldest Weasley boys, Bill and Charlie amiably. In front of him, Ami was speaking with Ron, Hermione and Ginny while Mr Weasley led the way back to their tents with the twins and his other son Percy. Harry remained in the middle, content with watching the others enjoying themselves.

  
By the time they arrived at their destinations, everyone looked a little more worn out and quiet, though the chanting from Irish supporters hysterical in their country's victory echoed everywhere. Harry suspected that more than a few people would be suffering mighty headaches come morning if they were too drunk to take their Hangover Potions before they went to bed or passed out.

  
Harry, Sirius and Ami bid the Weasleys and Hermione goodnight before entering their tent. The inside was designed very much like a traditional Japanese house, with two bedrooms that had futons laid out inside them.

  
“What a game,” sighed Ami wistfully.

  
“Mhm,” mumbled Harry in agreement.

  
“It's been a long time since I've been to a professional Quidditch game, I forgot how rowdy the crowds can get sometimes,” said Sirius. He had a fond expression on his face which made think that the older man was temporarily lost in memories, probably of his time with Harry's father and their friend Remus.

  
Ami yawned and stretched her arms upwards, her mouth agape widely before she settled down. “I'm thinking I'm going to bed now,” she announced. With a small wave, she went into her room.

  
Harry watched her until she was out of sight once she closed the wooden sliding door before following Sirius into their shared room. Harry removed his daisho fro his belt, then dressed out of his trench coat and jeans into more comfortable clothes for sleeping, then rolled his futon out, climbed onto it then closed his eyes to sleep as his exhaustion finally caught up with him.

  
Harry didn't think he had slept for very long when he felt a hand shaking him roughly. He looked up blearily to see Sirius, fully dressed and staring down at him with a grim expression.

  
“Wazzamatter?” asked Harry tiredly.

  
“Something's wrong,” answered Sirius. “Something bad is going on outside, and we need to be ready.”

  
Harry's senses instantly sharpened as he became alert, and he quickly got out of his futon and grabbed his daisho. He quickly exited the bedroom and went to Ami's. He realised that simply marching into her room was disrespectful, but the possibility of danger outweighed propriety at the moment, so he slid the door open and shook Ami awake.

  
“_Harry? What's wrong?_” she asked tiredly.

  
“_Sirius thinks that there's danger,_” said Harry. At that moment, there was a flash of orange light that came through the tent wall, followed by a loud explosion and screaming. Harry helped Ami up and turned around so that she could put on regular clothes quickly, then they along with Sirius left the tent.

  
The entire place was in complete chaos. Wizards and witches were fleeing in all directions away from the fires that were burning down tents. In the distance, Harry could see a group of figures in black, hooded robes wearing white masks. Above them in the air were some people hovering uselessly while they screamed.

  
“Are those...?” began Ami.

  
“The Muggle family looking after this place,” finished Sirius grimly. He then turned to Harry and said, “Get yourself and Ami out of here. Go to the woods, you'll be safe there.”

  
“Where are you going?” asked Harry.

  
“To find some help,” replied Sirius while drawing his wand. “Now go!”

  
Without another word, Harry took Ami by the hand and led her away from the approaching masked men. They pushed through the fleeing masses, their grips on each other vice-like so as to not lose one another, but it was difficult. But the further away from the chaos they went, the more opened up for them and they succeeded in escaping to the forest.

  
“_Do you have your wand?_” asked Harry.

  
Ami held up her redwood and _mizuchi_ core wand to show Harry, then asked if he had his. Harry touched the pocket in his jeans where he kept his wand. It was made of cherry wood, a prized and prestigious wood that many Japanese wizards and witches believed was a sign of great magical power, but it was the unique core in Harry's wand that made it particularly special. It had two cores, a single hair from a nine-tailed _kitsune_ and the heartstring of an _oni_, both two of the most powerful and dangerous magical creatures in not only Japan, but the world.

  
“We might need to use them if those people come near us,” said Harry. Ami nodded in agreement, but they remained silent as they traversed through the woods.

  
It seemed that most parents had the idea of sending their children into the forest to hide, as Harry and Ami came across groups of kids ranging from their age to elementary age. A few kids were crying as they called for their parents, and though Harry knew that Ami wanted to comfort them, he couldn't afford to put her in harm's way, so he kept dragging her along deeper into the woods.

  
Along the way, they ran into that blonde brat, Draco Malfoy, who looked extremely smug and calm in spite of the tense situation going on. When he saw them, he smirked.

  
“Lovely night, isn't it?” he commented, as if there wasn't a horde of masked men terrorising the campsite nearby.

  
“What are you doing here?” demanded Harry.

  
Malfoy shrugged. “Whatever I want, this is a free country after all,” he said. “But I suppose that's a bit of a foreign concept to you foreigners, isn't it?”

  
“We're Japanese, and trust me, I have a lot more freedom than you realise,” said Harry darkly as he gripped the pommel of his katana.

  
Malfoy scoffed disbelievingly. Then he looked at Ami with an inappropriately appreciative look. “What about you, pretty one? Or does your boyfriend not let you talk?” he asked. “If you ditch the uptight loser and come with me, I could teach you how to loosen up.”

  
“I'm capable of speaking on my own, thank you very much,” snapped Ami. Then she looked Malfoy up and down derisively. “You should run along, I don't think your mummy will be pleased to see that you dirtied your girly shoes.”

  
Malfoy’s face contorted into a deep scowl. “Stupid girl. You need to be taught some manners because clearly those barbarians you hang out with are affecting your brain,” he spat.

  
Harry took a step forward, his katana already halfway out of its sheath, but Ami grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back towards her.

  
“_Don't, he's not worth it_,” she said.

  
Harry frowned, but sheathed his sword and nodded his head slightly. Malfoy laughed.

  
“Guess I was wrong. Maybe it's the barbarian who's whipped,” he said.

  
Fast as lightning, Harry whipped out his wand and said, “_Kizetsu_.”

  
A jet of red light shot out and struck Malfoy right in the face, sending him flying before he crashed to the ground, unconscious by the Stunning Spell. Harry pocketed his wand and gave an approving huff before taking Ami by the hand again to lead them further into the woods.

  
“_I said that it wasn't worth it_,” chided Ami.

  
“_I know, but I did that simply because he was annoying me_,” said Harry with a light shrug. Ami tried to hold in her smile, but failed and ended up laughing instead. Harry grinned at her, and the two of them continued their trek.

  
About ten minutes after stunning Malfoy, Harry felt like something was watching them. He looked around through the woods for a sign of anyone or anything following them, but he saw nothing. But then he heard the sound of tiny feet pitter-pattering towards them at a rapid but irregular pace, like it was struggling to move through the undergrowth and fallen sticks and leaves. However, Harry had learned from Sakamoto that just because you couldn't see something didn't mean it wasn’t there. He stopped moving, causing Ami to do the same, and his right hand reached for the hilt of his sword slowly.

  
“_What is it?_” asked Ami quietly.

  
“_Something's following us,_” answered Harry. Ami's eyes widened slightly as she looked over her shoulder then quickly looked back.

  
“_Behind us, about twenty metres back_,” she said. “_It's not very large though_.”

  
“_Neither are yama-biko, but we know how much damage they can cause,_” countered Harry.

  
“_Fair point,_” said Ami. “_Attack on three?_”

  
Harry nodded his head. “_Three, two, one, now!_”

  
The two teenagers spun around, Ami with her wand in her hand while Harry drew his wakizashi in his right hand while his left hand held his wand, and they crouched into fighting stances. However, there was no immediate danger, Just a small, female house-elf with enormous eyes and floppy, pointed ears as wellas wearing a tea towel for clothing. She jumped up in surprise, as if she hadn't even seen the teenagers directly in front of her.

  
“Oh! I is sorry!” the little house elf squeaked in a high-pitched voice.

  
“Who are you?” demanded Harry in an intimidating tone.

  
“I is Winky sir,” answered the house elf.

  
“Why were you following us?”

  
“Winky did not see you until just now,” said Winky. “I is busy running from bad men.”

  
Harry narrowed his eyes at the house elf, and he was about to ask her another question, but Ami stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. She took a step forward, pocketing her wand then crouched in front of Winky and smiled. Meanwhile, Harry remained standing in a defensive position in case Winky tried anything.

  
“Do you know who those bad men were Winky?” asked Ami.

  
Winky shook her head, her large ears flopping wildly in a comical fashion.

  
“Winky is not knowing, Winky is scared!” she said fearfully. “Winky must leave now!”

  
The diminutive house-elf then proceeded to continue her journey into the woods, muttering to herself. Harry wanted to ask her more questions, but Ami stopped him.

  
“_She's obviously scared out of her mind,_” she said.

  
“_She might know something about what's going on though,_” argued Harry. Ami gave him a deadpan look at that and raised a single eyebrow.

  
“_Do you honestly think that anyone would tell a house-elf anything? She obviously knows as much as we do,_” said Ami.

  
Harry had to admit that she had a point. House-elves were practically slaves in the wizarding world, and the magical samurai code dictated that no samurai should have a personal slave of any kind, so very few wizarding families in Japan owned any, except for the more arrogant Ministry officials. But it seemed that house-elves in Britain were a common thing, but who would bring their house-elf to a Quidditch game?

  
“_Fine, but we should keep moving, before somebody-_“ began Harry.

  
“Who goes there?” said a voice.

  
Multiple steps came rushing towards them, and Harry pushed Ami behind him protectively while holding out his wakizashi. To both Harry and Ami's surprise however, they were met by the red-faced expressions of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George. They looked just as surprised to see the two tourists as Harry felt, but then they looked relieved to see familiar faces.

  
“Oh, thank Merlin,” said Ginny breathlessly. “We've been wandering around this place for ages and haven't run into anybody!”

  
“We did see Malfoy knocked out on the ground though,” said Ron with a grin at Harry, “you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?”

  
Harry kept a straight face as he answered, “Nope.”

  
“Huh, I was kinda hoping it was you guys who knocked him out or something,” said Ron disappointedly with a slight frown.

  
Harry wanted to laugh, but it clearly seemed like the wrong time to do so due to the situation they were in, plus Ami's warning look told him that they shouldn't reveal that it was in fact them that was the cause of Malfoy's predicament.

  
“Have you seen anyone else around here?” asked Hermione.

  
“Just a house-elf,” said Ami. “She went that way.”

  
The other five kids' faces followed where Ami was pointing, and they frowned.

  
“What's a house-elf doing at the World Cup?” wondered Ginny.

  
“Maybe it was the one we saw at the game? You know, the one who said she was afraid of heights,” suggested Fred, or was it George? Harry wasn't sure.

  
“Coulda been, she was a bit of an odd elf, wasn't she?” replied George/Fred.

  
“Oh, her master should never have forced her up there in the first place!” cried Hermione vehemently.

  
Harry and Ami shared a confused look. There had been a house-elf in the top box with them? Harry didn't recall seeing one, but maybe he hadn't been sitting near it during the game.

  
Just then, however, he saw a man-sized shape in the woods, but it was too dark to make out any details. While the others were talking amongst themselves, he raised a hand up to catch their attention. Slowly the talking quietened when they saw what Harry was doing, and he silently gestured over to the figure.

  
“Who is that?” asked Ron.

  
Suddenly the figure raised something up into the air, a wand.

  
“_MORSMORDRE!!!_” he bellowed. There was a jet of green light that shot up high into the air, above the tallest treetops before exploding. The light expanded and warped into shape until it resembled a giant skull with a snake slithering out of its mark. Instantly a feeling of dread fell upon the group of teenagers.

  
Harry instantly recognised the terrifying image from recounts of Sirius's time in the Order of the Phoenix, as well as a few of the magical history books he had read. The Dark Mark, Voldemort's personal insignia during the war. It was often used whenever he or his Death Eaters had killed somebody or wanted to instil fear into the hearts of their enemies. That meant that whoever cast the Dark Mark was a Death Eater!  
Harry looked back to find the figure and either capture of kill him, but to his shock and anger, he had vanished. Harry twirled his wakizashi briefly before moving to sheath it, but then he felt the air around him change. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, predicting imminent danger. Quickly he grabbed Ami and forced her down to the ground, then with a flick of his wand, knocked the other teens down as well just as a group of wizards and witches Apparated around them in a circle.

  
“_Stupefy!_” they all cried out in unison, and the Stunning Spells struck right where the kids had all been standing a second earlier. These must have been other Death Eaters, probably come to cause even more mayhem in the forest. But why were they using Stunning Spells? As far as Harry knew that wasn't their M.O.

  
Harry was up on his feet in an instant however and pointed his wand at the wizard closest to him.

  
“_Kizetsu!_” He yelled. The wizard dropped like a sack of rice, shocking the other wizards. That worked to Harry's advantage though as he spun around and swung his sword at his next assailant. The blade slashed through the wizard's robes, and he had the good sense to step back in time before his stomach was sliced open, but he let out a screech of shock at being attacked with a sword of all things. Harry finished off the man however by kicking him to the ground and stunning him.

  
“Wait! Those are my kids!” yelled a familiar voice.

  
Harry spun around to see Mr Weasley running towards them with a relieved look on his face as he gathered his four youngest kids into a group hug. Harry looked around, feeling slightly confused for a moment. Was Mr Weasley a Death Eater? That didn't make sense, he worked for the Ministry and from what Ron and Ginny had told Harry, he was obsessed with all things Muggle. He was a blood-traitor, as some Purebloods called them.

  
Harry sheathed his wakizashi, then helped Ami back up onto her feet and brushed the dirt off her shoulders and picked a few twigs out of her hair.

  
“_Are you okay?_” he asked worriedly.

  
“_I'm fine. Thanks for looking out for the others as well,_” said Ami.

  
“Hanzo! Ami!” shouted a voice. Harry whipped around to see Sirius running towards them with the same look Mr Weasley had when he found his children, and he enveloped them both in a hug. It was brief, but when Sirius let go he gave them a quick once-over just to be sure they were okay.

  
Harry was about to say something, but then a man with a portly belly and greying brown hair that was brushed neatly to the side stormed right up to them with his wand raised at the teens.

  
“Which one of you did it!” he demanded angrily, his eyes wide open and his nostrils flaring as his face burned red with anger. “Which one of us conjured the Dark Mark!”

  
“Are you mad?!” exclaimed Ron in shock. The man's attention turned to the youngest redheaded boy.

  
“Was it you?!” he demanded.

  
“Amos, those are my sons and daughter!” yelled Mr Weasley. That made the man named Amos pause slightly. He took in the appearances of the twins, Ron and Ginny, then something seemed to click in his head when he made the connection.

  
“Oh. Right, sorry,” muttered Amos. But then he turned his attention to Hermione. “What about you?!”

  
“I'm a Muggle-born!” sputtered Hermione indignantly. That was a sound argument. There was no way a Muggle-born would ever conjure the Dark Mark.

  
Amos seemed to come to the same conclusion, because then he rounded on Harry and Ami.

  
“What have you to say for yourselves hm?!” he practically shouted. “Were you the ones who-“

  
Amos stopped speaking when he realised that Harry had drawn his katana and was pointing it directly at his belly, the tip of the blade only just touching his robes. The other wizards all pointed their wands at Harry, but he ignored them completely as he glared at the man in front of him.

  
“Please lower your wand in front of Lady Yoshinaga sir, before this gets messy,” warned Harry.

  
Amos obeyed, but the other wizards and witches kept their wands trained on him. In thee meantime, their stunned friends were revived, and they sat up with dazed expressions on their faces.

  
“As for your earlier question, it wasn't us,” continued Harry before he sheathed his katana again as a gesture of peace. “But about fifty metres in that direction we saw a man who cast the spell.”

  
“How do we know you're not lying?” asked Amos with narrowed eyes.

  
“Diggory, this is my son and the girl he's sworn to protect,” added Sirius. “They've spent their whole lives in Japan, so even if they knew how to cast the Dark Mark I doubt they'd know how to do it in Latin like a Death Eater would.”

  
“We saw the man too,” said Hermione, coming to Harry and Ami's defence. The Weasley kids all piped up as well, saying that it was Harry who had spotted the man and that they saw him cast the Dark Mark. Amos ordered one of the wizards to go investigate, while the rest of them waited. The man who Harry had slashed with his blade was keeping his distance from him and Ami, a fearful look on his face.

  
“Aha! Found something!” exclaimed the wizard who had gone to investigate.

  
Everyone ran over to see the wizard standing over the unconscious form of Winky, which came as a shock to Harry. What the hell was she doing here? She had left this place long before the Dark Mark was cast. In her hands was an unfamiliar wand, but Ron seemed to recognise it.

  
“Hey! That's mine!” he called out before taking the object from Winky's unconscious grip. Ron looked like he hadn't even realised that his wand had gone missing and seemed rather embarrassed by it while Hermione gave him a withering look. Amos whirled on him.

  
“So you admit it was you?!” he said.

  
“Amos...” warned Mr Weasley.

  
“Right, sorry again.”

  
“How about we get the story from the elf herself before we jump to conclusions, shall we?” suggested Sirius. He pointed his wand and muttered, “_Enervate_.”

  
Winky's enormous eyes blinked opened before she looked around in confusion. Meanwhile, Amos drew himself up to his full height and stood over the tiny elf in a display of intimidation.

  
“Do you know who I am?” he said lowly.

  
Winky shook her head in response. The next few minutes were spent interrogating the poor house-elf, which ended with her master, a man named Mr Crouch, giving her clothes for disobeying his orders and being blamed for stealing Ron's wand and conjuring the Dark Mark. Harry thought the whole scene was barbaric, and felt disgusted by the British wizarding world's treatment of magical creatures, as if they were lower lifeforms meant to be ruled by wizarding folk. It was nothing like Japan, where wizards and witches tried to live in harmony with the supernatural, or at least tried its best to respect the lives of nonhumans.

  
Ami looked like she was sharing Harry's sentiments judging by the expression on her face, yet Sirius looked resigned more than anything else, like he was used to seeing other, less powerful creatures being mistreated. That wasn't entirely surprising, based on what Harry knew about his godfather's history. Being the only Gryffindor in his family of Slytherin Pureblood fanatics, Sirius had been treated lower than dirt for most of his childhood until he ran away to live with Harry's dad when they were both sixteen.

  
By the end of the whole ordeal Harry was tired and annoyed, so he led Ami, Sirius, Hermione and the Weasleys back to their tents in silence. He was disgusted by what he had just seen, and felt more glad than ever before that he had been raised amongst people who knew the worth of others, no matter how small or weak they were.

  
His silence seemed to disturb the others, who tried to appear discreet as they silently looked to Ami for help. The Japanese girl however merely shook her head and muttered something that Harry couldn't hear, but it got the others to quietly go away, leaving the three visitors to go to their tent in peace.

  
Once inside, Harry carefully removed his daisho and placed it near his futon again, then removed his jacket and put on his pyjamas for the second time that night before retiring, hopefully for real this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter won't come until a littlelateras work has got me in there full-time for the next two weeks starting tomorrow. But I'll try to update when I can.
> 
> Japanese words:
> 
> Mizuchi- Japanese mythical water dragon.  
Kizetsu- stun.


	5. the Fourth Champion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the support!

Harry kneeled on the hard dirt in one of the many gardens in Yoshinaga castle, where the leaves of the trees had turned into various shades of yellow, orange and red. It looked like fire that was moving in slow motion in the breeze, and it was one of Harry's favourite seasons. Autumn in Japan, like spring, was brief, lasting a little over a month before the white winds and bitter snows of winter drifted in from the north and Russia. The amount of colour that bloomed in that short time was amazing though, like fire and nature coming together as it slowly died. It was the cool, crisp winds and colours that brought peace to Harry's soul, making him love the short season as much as he did.

  
That, and the seasonal sweet potato shakes that were sold at McDonalds this time of the year.

  
It was the beginning of November, almost three months since the Quidditch World Cup Final. After the disastrous post-match celebrations resulting in Death Eaters burning half the camp down, Harry, Ami and Sirius had returned to Japan. They'd left on good terms with the Weasley kids and Hermione, promising to write one other and share about their cultures. Perhaps sometime, maybe next summer they could visit one another. They had kept in touch, though not as much as Harry suspected Hermione or Ron wanted, but life as a samurai-in-training was demanding and Harry had little time to himself, let alone write letters to friends on the other side of the world.

  
Harry sat in seiza position, his eyes closed as he meditated in the garden. His breathing was calm and steady, and the slight wind made his medium-length hair gently brush across his face, hiding his lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He was focussed on clearing his mind, using Occlumency to force stray thoughts away. Years of doing this made it almost second-nature for the fourteen-year old, but like with all arts performed under bushido, the way of the samurai, everything required Harry to perform all tasks to the utmost perfection.

  
However, that proved to be more difficult for Harry on this particular when he heard rustling through the dry autumn leaves that had fallen on the ground. He opened one eye and saw amongst the orange and yellow leaves a small latch of white and grey, with a pair of light grey eyes staring at him. There another flicker of white and grey, a long and fluffy tail that swished with excitement. As far as Harry knew, the creature didn't know that Harry knew he had seen it. The tiny creature stalked closer and closer slowly, before pouncing.

  
Harry brought one hand up and caught the creature by the stomach, surprising it. Harry grinned at the snow leopard cub. It let out an annoyed mewl at having been caught before hissing at him, its tail swinging below its body in an agitated manner.

  
“_Better luck next time Yuki,_” said Harry lightly. The snow leopard cub mewled again in response. Harry chuckled and placed Yuki down on the ground, where she snuggled up against his leg and lay down.

  
Yuki was Harry’s gift given to him by Sakamoto and Lord Yoshinaga after his return from England for his birthday. Sakamoto had explained that all great samurai had a familiar from they could draw magical strength and reassurance from, in which a wizard's power could grow at a faster yet more controlled rate. Harry remembered seeing Lord Yoshinaga's sea eagle and Sakamoto's black bear, both of which were far more intelligent than normal animals of their respective species'. Yuki was only a month and a half old, but was already displaying keen intelligence and a deep connection to Harry.

  
The leopard cub let out a yawn before stretching, then closed her eyes to fall asleep at Harry's side. However, at that moment a samurai dressed in a casual navy-blue hakama with his daisho tucked into his cloth obi appeared in front of him and bowed slightly, though it did little to hide the obvious disdain on his face. His name was Fujiwara Mitsuhide, and he was one of the few samurai in the service of Lord Yoshinaga who thought Harry's presence was a stain on the bushido code because he was a foreigner. Mitsuhide was as tall as Harry, with a lean, muscular frame and broad shoulders. He wore his dark hair loose most of the time, the tips of his hair dyed blue for some reason. His face was almost always in a scowl, at least whenever Harry was around. It was also no secret that he desired Ami's hand in marriage in order to increase his social standing, despite being nearly fifteen years older than her.

  
“_Lord Yoshinaga has demanded your presence_,” said Mitsuhide in his deep, silky voice. Harry noticed that the older man didn't even bother to use more formal speech with him. Though Harry was younger than Mitsuhide and thus his inferior in the Japanese hierarchy, it still stung a little to see that the man held him in such low regard.

  
“_Thank you, Fujiwara-san_,” said Harry. He stood up and picked up the still-sleeping Yuki from off the ground and cradled her close to his chest.

  
Mitsuhide snorted derisively at the snow leopard. “_Lord Yoshinaga should have given you a dog for a companion_,” he mocked.

  
Harry felt his anger flare up. “_Whether I received a dog or a snow leopard, it's still one more familiar than what you have_,” he retorted while stroking the fur on the top of Yuki's head.

  
Mitsuhide's eye twitched angrily as he prepared to draw his katana. “_You insolent little-_“ he began.

  
“_Fujiwara!_” boomed a loud voice. Both Harry and Mitsuhide turned to see Sakamoto standing at the garden, a serious look on his face as he held his bokken tightly. “_Unless you plan on actually killing the boy, put your blade away._”

  
Mitsuhide scowled darkly at the older samurai, but obeyed. He glared one last time at Harry before marching away, nearly shoving past Sakamoto on the way out. Harry followed at a much slower pace, but bowed when he came to stand in front of Sakamoto.

  
“_Be careful around Mitsuhide, Potter_,” said Sakamoto in a warning tone. “_Most samurai here are accepting of your induction into our order, but he is one of the few who finds it offensive and shameful. Give him one good reason and he will not hesitate to strike you down where you stand_.”

  
“_I'm sorry sensei, I won't do it again,_” said Harry contritely. He always felt bad whenever he disappointed his teachers, especially Sakamoto who was almost like an uncle to him.

  
Sakamoto let out a huff and straightened his shoulders. “_Go now. Find Ami-chan while you're on your way to see Lord Yoshinaga, what he has to tell you will affect the both of you,_” he said gruffly.

  
“Yes sensei,” said Harry. He bowed one more time to his master then took off at a brisk walk to where he knew Ami was training.

  
While women generally were forbidden from becoming samurai in the traditional sense, they were still allowed to train in weapons and martial arts. Women who fought alongside their samurai counterparts were known as onna-bugeisha, the female martial artist. Ami was training to become one, and Harry knew she was in a middle of a session so he walked towards the tower that housed the women's dojo.

  
Two samurai were guarding the entrance into the dojo, but they paid Harry no mind as he walked inside. The dojo was lit with several torches emitting a soft orange light that flickered now and again. There were a number of women, a few of them wives of samurai, but others were simply young witches eager to prove themselves as capable warriors and keepers of order. They were all dressed in black training kimono and hakama, holding different kinds of weapons ranging from the yumi bow to naginata. A few women gave Harry a curious look when he entered, but most of them were familiar with the fact that wherever Ami was, Harry was bound to be close and vice versa.

  
Ami was in the centre of the dojo on a platform, facing off against three women at once. She was wearing the same clothes as everyone else, her black hair tied up in a bun, though some strands had come loose and was plastered to her forehead by sweat. She was holding a wooden bokken shaped like a naginata, and was currently twirling it in her hands skilfully before engaging her opponents.

  
Harry watched with wonder as Ami twirled around her enemies, blocking and parrying their attacks with almost-inhuman finesse. She was like a dancer, a very deadly dancer with a weapon in her hands that she used to beat her opponents down until they surrendered. Ami was almost completely mesmerising, and within seconds she had disarmed all three of her opponents. She then turned around and noticed Harry, and she twirled her naginata bokken in her hand once before handing it off to one of the instructors.

  
“_Yes Harry?_” she asked. She was slightly out of breath and her cheeks were red from exertion, but she appeared to be otherwise unharmed.

  
“_Sorry, but your father wishes to speak with us. Apparently it's urgent_,” said Harry.

  
Ami sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, then noticed Yuki sleeping in his arms.

  
“_Oh hello pretty thing,_” she cooed before scratching the snow leopard under the chin affectionately. The little cub's eyes blinked open and started squirming, making Harry grunted in annoyance.

  
“_She's only just fallen asleep_,” he groaned.

  
Ami shrugged. “_It's your fault for bringing her here_,” she said unapologetically before walking out of the dojo. Harry grumbled under his breath, bug followed the girl after putting Yuki down on the ground. The trip to the main keep wasn't too long, and within a few minutes they were in the Lord's throne room.

  
Harry instantly knew that something bad had happened the moment he stepped inside, as the air was thick with tension. Lord Yoshinaga was not sitting on his wooden throne, and he was holding a letter and reading it with an intense expression on his face while his wife, tall and beautiful Lady Saori hovered over his shoulder. Sirius was standing to the side with a nervous expression as he constantly fidgeted with his hands. Even the guards seemed more tense than usual.

  
“Father?” said Ami worried as she moved to stand next to her parents. “Is something wrong?”

  
“I am afraid so,” said Lord Yoshinaga with a sigh. His dark gaze flickered over to Harry briefly before he extended the letter out to Sirius. Sirius took the letter and stepped off the small dais before handing it to Harry.

  
_To whom it may concern,_

  
_This letter has been charmed to find Harry Potter using some of the most ancient and powerful tracking spells in existence, as the contents therein contains information of the utmost importance. _

  
_Mr Potter has been filed as ‘missing’ for the last thirteen years, believed to have been taken by his godfather after the deaths of his parents and subsequent defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Many in magical Britain had believed the boy to be dead until his name appeared on the lists of students beginning their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the year 1991. However, he failed to return his reply before July 31st, and all letters since have failed to reach its destination, wherever Mr Potter has been hidden._

  
_However, this year Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament, where selected students from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are to compete in a series of extremely difficult and dangerous tasks. On October 31st, Halloween night the enchanted cup known as the Goblet of Fire was used to select the three champions. _

  
_However, the cup withdrew a fourth name for Hogwarts. One Harry James Potter. You can imagine our surprise at hearing that not only is the Boy-Who-Lived still alive, but has also been selected to participate in the Triwizard Tournament as Hogwarts' Fourth Champion. _

  
_Under normal circumstances, we would advise that Mr Potter remain where he currently is for his own safety as his name appearing from the Goblet of Fire is no doubt a ploy to bring him out of hiding, possibly with the intent to harm or even kill him. Unfortunately due to the Goblet's nature, Mr Potter is now under a magically-binding contract that will require him to participate in the Three Tasks. If he refuses, his magic will be stripped away from him, leaving him as magical as a Muggle. _

  
_I urge Mr Potter to please come to Hogwarts to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. You have my word that he will be under my protection and we will do our best to keep him safe. _

  
_Please arrive at Hogwarts by no later than the 30th of November, as the First Task will take place on that day._

  
_Sincerely, _

  
_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, _

  
_Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

  
Harry looked up from the letter, feeling utter disbelief at what he had just read.

  
“Is this a prank?” he said.

  
“We've cross-examined the letter over a dozen times,” said Sirius, then he sighed. “Unfortunately, it's the real deal from Dumbledore himself.”

  
“He's found me?!” exclaimed Harry.

  
“Unlikely. As stated in the letter, only it was able to find you and Dumbledore had no idea who he was writing to,” said Lady Saori. Her voice was soft and calm, a soothing anchor against the shock and anger Harry was feeling inside.

  
“So what does that mean?” asked Harry.

  
“In order to keep your magic, you will have to go to Hogwarts to compete in this foolish competition,” said Lord Yoshinaga. “Without your magic to aid you, I fear that you will not be prepared to face the coming trials.”

  
“But, but-“ began Harry. However, Lord Yoshinaga raised a hand to silence him.

  
“Potter, there are things in motion that you, and if I am being frank, even we do not understand,” said the samurai lord. “Whoever put your name in that cup wants you there for a reason, and we want to find out why.”

  
“So I’m supposed to go Hogwarts as bait?” asked Harry angrily. When Lord Yoshinaga raised an eyebrow at Harry's disrespect, the younger boy felt shame. “Forgive me, my lord,” he said quietly with a bow of his head.

  
Yoshinaga seemed to understand Harry's frustration though, be cause he said, “We will not be sending you helpless or alone either.”

  
At that, Harry raised his head back up quickly. “I don't follow,” he said.

  
Lady Saori smiled and stepped forward. “Ami has told us of how well you worked to protect her when the Death Eaters attacked the campsite at the Quidditch World Cup,” she said. “She told us that you conducted yourself to the highest teachings of bushido and fought to preserve her life and honour when the situation demanded it. For that, but also to properly prepare yourself for the coming trials, we have decided to make you a full-fledged samurai.”

  
Harry couldn't speak. Did Lady Saori say what he think she just said? He was to be a samurai?!_ Now?! _

  
“My Lord and Lady, you honour me,” he said in as steady a voice as he could. Sirius and Ami both looked equally surprised, which meant that they had no idea the Yoshinaga seniors were going to do this. However, that shock gave way to happiness and pride reflected on their expressions, which helped serve to boost Harry's confidence slightly.

  
“Honour yourself by winning the Triwizard Tournament, “ said Lord Yoshinaga. “But there is another thing I mentioned earlier that has not yet been addressed. The matter of who will be going to Hogwarts with you.

  
“Of course, your godfather will be going, seeing as he is still your legal guardian and knows more about the British Wizarding World more than anyone else here. But you will need a companion while in the castle itself.” He then looked to Ami. “I do believe my daughter will be the best candidate for the task ahead.”

  
Now it was Ami's turn to be shocked by the news.

  
“M-me, Father?” she stammered out.

  
“Of course. Who else do I trust to watch this boy’s back?” said Lord Yoshinaga. “And besides, last I recall I have not yet released Potter from his vows to protect you.”

  
Harry couldn't argue that logic. At least he would have someone familiar with him most of the time until the school year was over, someone who he trusted implicitly.

  
“When do we leave?” he asked.

  
“In two days’ time, immediately after you have bound your magic to your daisho,” answered Lord Yoshinaga.

  
Harry felt his eyes widen slightly at that. He only had two days to prepare?! Lady Saori must have seen the expression on his face, because she laughed softly.

  
“Not to worry, Harry-kun. I will have my finest servants help you pack for your journey,” she assured.

  
Harry breathed a small sigh of relief as he felt that bit of pressure taken off him. “Thank you my Lady,” he said.

  
So Harry was going to Hogwarts after all.

* * *

Everything was packed and ready to go, and the only thing left to do was for Harry to receive his sei-daisho. His room was almost completely bare, save for the futon that was rolled up in the corner and a poster of the Japan national Quidditch team that hung from the far wall. This was where Harry had lived for the last thirteen years, and now, for the first time in his life that he could remember, he was going to be sleeping in an unfamiliar bed for an extended period of time amongst unfamiliar people. But at least he would have Ami.

  
Harry took one last look at his room before leaving and headed downstairs to the throne room, where the ceremony would be performed. He walked alone, his wooden sandals clinking against the polished wooden floor that created an echo which only served to heighten his already-frayed nerves. He couldn't let those emotions show however; he needed to show Lord Yoshinaga and the other samurai attending that he had what it took to be just like them, even though he was a foreigner.

  
Two samurai fully-equipped with armour stood at the entry door to the throne room. They quietly opened the doors to let Harry in before closing it. The only people in attendance were the most elite of the samurai, including Sakamoto, Lord and Lady Yoshinaga and, or course, Ami. Ami and Lady Saori offered him small, comforting smiles when he entered, though the rest of the men gathered were completely stone-faced. This was a sacred ceremony that few had the privilege of witnessing. Even Sirius wasn't invited.

  
Once Harry was at the bottom of the first step, he sank to his knees and knelt so low that his arms were extended forward, putting him completely at the mercy of the men before him.

  
“_Harry Potter,”_ said Lord Yoshinaga in a deep, booming voice. “_Today, you will become samurai, the most elite of warriors in Japan. With this sacred privilege comes immense responsibility that will cost you much of your life's energies. Are you prepared?_”

  
“Yes, my lord,” answered Harry.

  
“_Good. As a samurai, are you prepared to covenant to serve your lord with all the dedication of your heart?_” asked Lord Yoshinaga.

  
“_I am_,” said Harry.

  
“_Do you swear to uphold the laws, customs and etiquette of a samurai to the strictest obedience?_”

  
“_I swear_.”

  
“_Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambitions for the welfare and protection of others?_”

"_I swear_."

  
“_Do you swear to protect the helpless with all the strength of your character and, if need be, give your life for them?_”

  
“_I swear._”

  
“_Then, Harry Potter, claim your sei-daisho and bind your magic to your weapons,_” finished Lord Yoshinaga.

Sakamoto stepped forward, holding a new set of swords and handed them to Harry. He took them and unsheathed the two blades. The steel was almost glaringly silver, more polished and clean than any other blade he had held. There were tiny ripples in the steel that looked like silver waves, giving the blades and exotic look. They were curved and one-edged, sharper than anything that could be made by hands.

  
The katana and wakizashi were not made out of any ordinary steel. Ancient samurai wizards learned how to make steel stronger and sharper than even goblin steel with the assistance of a powerful thunder spirit, and the art had been passed down to the present day.

  
Harry held the swords in each hand, then closed his eyes. He had been taught that the blades would seek out his magical core and bind to it, though how no one was ever really sure as it was a different experience for everyone. But then Harry could feel something, as if someone was poking at the back of his head and chest as the same time. It didn't feel invasive in any way, almost like the source was seeking permission to be let in.

  
“_Repeat the words after me,_” said the voice of Lord Yoshinaga. “_At the setting of the sun and the rising of evil, I shall don my armour_.”  
Harry repeated the words, and he felt the force push a little further inside him.

  
“_I shall protect those who cannot protect themselves, and fight with every fibre of my being_.”

  
The force pushed harder now, beginning to envelop his senses and body. A trickling sensation, not unlike standing under a warm shower washed over him, filling him with warm.

  
“_I shall not rest until death takes me on the field of battle or by my own hands. With the strength of the samurai, I shall not fail!_”

  
The warmth turned into a blazing inferno, and Harry felt himself being almost entirely consumed. He opened his eyes, but he was no longer in Lord Yoshinaga's throne room. Instead, he was surrounded by complete darkness in a space that seemed to stretch on and on forever. However, in the distance, Harry spotted a swirling shape. Harry walked over to it and saw that it was a ball made entirely out of different colourful light. When he touched it with a single finger, the ball pulsed, radiating more light.

  
“_Where am I?_” he said aloud.

  
“_You are inside your magical core, where the measure of your character will be decided,_” answered a deep, baritone voice that echoed through the darkness.

  
Harry spun around, startled out of his wits, but saw nothing. But then light flared up everywhere, and suddenly Harry was surrounded by five beings that radiated majesty and power. Four of them were clearly Japanese, based on their features and dress, but the fourth looked like an ancient British wizard.

  
“_Who are you?_” asked Harry.

  
“_We, are the four Guardians of Japan. The ones who will determine whether you are worthy to become a full-fledged samurai,_” answered the person who owned the first voice, a tall samurai in white armour. His face was completely covered by his helmet and mask, a golden plate styled to resemble an angry man's face.

  
“_I've never heard of you_,” said Harry.

  
“_Few have_,” said one of the other Guardians, a woman dressed as a geisha in a stunning turquoise kimono with a beautiful mask of a white-faced woman covering her face. “_It is a rare opportunity to meet us_.”

  
“_Which means we expect great things from you Harry,_” added a deep, growling voice of a colossal man wearing a black and red kimono with an oni mask.

  
“_From me? What could you possibly expect from me?_” asked Harry.

  
“_A great evil stirs once again in your mother country_,” said the samurai. “_He will return, and you are the prophesied champion of the Light who will destroy him, as you once did before_.”

  
“_Voldemort_,” whispered Harry. So he was preparing to come back. He remembered hearing rumours of at least two attempts being made on Hogwarts to restore the Dark Lord to his former power, one of them supposedly involving a freaking basilisk.

  
“_What would you have me do?_” asked Harry.

  
“_We have manipulated events so that you might be more fully prepared to face the coming threat,_” said the fourth Guardian, a short, squat man in Buddhist robes and wearing a kabuki mask over his face. “_Your coming to Japan to train as a samurai was no mere coincidence_.”

  
“_Were it not for our intervention, you would have been left to live with your last living relatives on your mother's side, no-maj who hate the very thought of magic,_” continued the Geisha. “And Lord Yoshinaga would have turned you down had we not warned him of your coming many years beforehand.”

  
That surprised Harry. “_Lord Yoshinaga knew I was coming?_” he exclaimed in shock.

  
“_Lord Yoshinaga is the only other man besides yourself who has stood in our presence_,” said the Oni. Then he glanced in the ancient wizard's direction. “_Well, the only other one who has seen the Japanese Guardians._”

  
Harry noticed that the ancient wizard had yet to speak. He looked old and wise, with glowing green eyes and a white beard that went all the way down to his belly. He wore midnight-blue robes that shimmered in the darkness somehow. The wizard kind of reminded Harry of some of the pictures he had seen of Albus Dumbledore in chocolate frog cards.

  
The samurai seemed to notice Harry's curiosity of the fifth Guardian, because he said, “_This is a representative of the European Guardians. As you are not truly of Japan, you are still under the jurisdiction of the Europeans_.”

  
“_So why are you interested in my battle against Voldemort?_” asked Harry.

  
“_Because if you fail against him, there will be no power on this earth left to stop him_,” said the wizard, speaking for the first time. “_Now, if there are no more questions, the four Guardians of Japan will complete the ritual._”

  
Harry actually had a tonne of questions that he wanted answered, but he wasn't given time to voice them because the next thing he knew, the four Guardians clapped their hands in sync, and a low chanting echoed through the darkness. Harry's magical core pulsed in time with the chanting, growing bigger and brighter until the darkness completely dissipated and Harry was consumed by his own core.

  
Harry opened his eyes, panting and sweaty. He was back in Lord Yoshinaga's throne room, again surrounded by his teachers and friends. It took a moment for Harry to readjust himself from the strange vision he had just experienced, and in that time he felt two pairs of hands touch his shoulders. He looked to see both Ami and Lady Saori looking at him with concern in their eyes.

  
“_Harry? Are you okay? You fell into some sort of a trance and Father wouldn't let anyone touch you. What happened?_” asked Ami rapidly.

  
“_I'm fine. I just..._” Harry trailed off when he heard, or rather felt a low humming that was coming from his hands. He looked down to see that he was holding his two swords, but they were different somehow. They looked the same, but somehow the blades were even brighter and sharper now, and the small ripples in the steel looked like they were actually moving, like waves in the middle of the ocean. When Harry looked up to Lord Yoshinaga, he saw that the older man looked serious, but there was an understanding in his eyes that meant he knew what had happened to the boy.

  
“_Harry Potter, you are now samurai,_” declared Lord Yoshinaga. He bowed low to Harry, and all the other people in the room did the same.  
Harry stood up and sheathed his two new weapons, and instantly felt a small sense of loss when the humming from the blades ceased.

However, Harry bowed in respect to his masters and finally allowed himself to feel a sense of pride at his accomplishment. Becoming a samurai had been the only thing he wanted in life, and now that he had achieved it, he was leaving his home for a land that was supposed to be where he would have been raised to fight in a competition.

  
Well, at least Harry's skills would be put to the test, he supposed. 


	6. Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! I'e been working on another of my stories as well as real life getting in the way. Nevertheless, enjoy!

“Brilliant, isn't it?” said Sirius with almost childlike joy.

  
“I suppose,” said Harry in a bored tone.

  
Hogwarts really was brilliant. It was almost twice the size of Yoshinaga castle, with enormous towers and turrets, as well as a breathtaking view of the Black Lake and Forbidden Forest. But that was all there was to it if Harry was being honest. Sure, the castle was enormous and rich with magical history, but it was so bland. There were hardly any colours to the castle except for grey and, well, other shades of grey. Even the surrounding hills and forest had the same dull tinge to it. Yoshinaga castle was vibrant with reds, greens, whites, blacks and, during spring, pink from the sakura trees that bloomed. Or maybe Harry guessed that the only reason why Hogwarts and the surrounding areas looked like that was because winter was almost upon them. 

  
The trio consisting of Harry, Sirius and Ami arrived with their trunks at the closed gates guarded by statues of winged boars (which Harry found slightly amusing), where a retched old man in patchy clothes was waiting for them. 

  
“Argus Filch!” said Sirius happily as they approached the man. “It's been far too long old friend!”

  
“You and your little gang of misfits were never my friends,” spat Filch. Next to his feet, a batty old cat hissed at Sirius.

  
“Mr Filch, you wound me,” said Sirius in mock outrage. “Whatever did I do to earn your ire so much?”

  
“You and your bloody tricks nearly destroyed half the bloody castle at least a dozen times! The only ones who have come close to your antics are those blasted Weasley twins, but even they have caused me less grief than you alone!” said Mr Filch, but with real outrage in his voice. Then he looked at Harry and Ami. “I better not catch you pulling any silly stunts, or else I'll hang you from the ceiling by your ankles!”

  
Harry did his best to hide his grin as he and Ami bowed to the man, who suddenly seemed taken aback by the gesture.

  
“We'll try our best sir,” said Ami with false innocence in her voice. Fortunately, only Harry and Sirius picked up on the insincerity of Ami's words, but Mr Filch just looked baffled. 

  
“Alright then,” the old man wheezed. “Dumbledore's waiting for you in his office.”

  
“Pleasure seeing you again Argy,” said Sirius with a wink before he led the way up the track to the castle.

  
“Will he actually hang us by our ankles if we misbehave?” asked Ami.

  
Sirius barked out a laugh. “Nah, Dumbledore would never let him, but I heard they used to do that back in the day though,” he answered. 

  
Harry and Ami shared a look at that. The trio entered the castle, but Sirius took them on a path that prevented them from running into any students who weren't in class, taking secret passageways that Sirius must have memorised from his own time as a student at Hogwarts. Eventually they reached a stone gargoyle with a fierce expression on its face.

  
“Pumpkin pasties,” said Sirius. The gargoyle leapt out of the way, revealing a spiral staircase that took them up to the door to the headmaster's office. Sirius knocked on the door three times, then opened it when they heard someone bid them to enter.

  
Harry was stunned for a moment. The headmaster's office was huge, with hundreds of book stacked on shelves, strange magical instruments clinking and whirring while puffing out strange streams of coloured smoke out. There were also numerous enchanted paintings of wizards and witches who began to whisper amongst themselves excitedly at the sight of the new arrivals. But it was the man sitting at the desk, surrounded by three other wizards who proved to be the most impressive sight of all.

  
Albus Dumbledore was old, that much was obvious with his long, white hair and beard. His twinkling blue eyes were hidden behind a pair of half-moon spectacles, and he was wearing a ridiculous set of silky red robes that looked like they belonged in a children's book. While Dumbledore presented a calm, almost grandfatherly appearance, Harry could sense the amount of magical power coming off of him. It was similar to the kind of power Lord Yoshinaga radiated, and Harry finally understood why he was considered to be the only wizard Voldemort ever feared. 

  
“Harry, Sirius, Miss Yoshinaga. It is good to see you,” said Dumbledore in a friendly, welcoming voice. The other people seemed to share the same sentiments, except for the one man with sallow skin, greasy black hair just like his robes and a hooked nose who was too busy glaring at Sirius. 

  
Harry bowed low, the same as Ami and said, “Thank you for having us at your school. It is an honour to be here.”

  
Dumbledore's eyes somehow started to twinkle even more brightly as he smiled warmly. 

  
“It is good to have you home,” he said. “But that of course begs the question of where you have been these many years. I am correct in assuming it is an Asian country, based on your friend here?”

  
“That's a little racist,” grumbled Sirius under his breath so that only Harry and Ami could hear.

  
“You would be correct sir,” said Harry before shooting a look at his godfather. It wouldn't do to get on the most powerful wizard in Europe's bad side on their first meeting. “I've spent the last thirteen years in Japan, living under the protection of Lord Kenta Yoshinaga.”

  
“Lord Yoshinaga?” said Dumbledore with mild surprise in his voice. “He is a very powerful friend of mine, but he never mentioned that you were living with him.”

  
“We believed that the less people who knew about my whereabouts, the safer I would be,” said Harry.

  
Dumbledore looked almost offended by that. “I can assure you, you would have been safe if I had known,” he said.

  
“Of course,” said Harry, putting just a little bit of sarcasm into his voice. “However, my reasoning is still the same.”

  
“Well then I believe that Miss Yoshinaga must be his daughter then,” said Dumbledore. He smiled and bowed his head slightly to Ami, who returned the gesture.

  
“Still. I would have rested easier knowing you were a little closer to home, where I might have known where you were and provided effective means in watching over you,” insisted Dumbledore, continuing from the previous subject.

  
“Oh, like how you provided effective means in keeping James and Lily safe?” blurted out Sirius suddenly. A tense silence filled the office, during which the other people with Dumbledore visibly paled, except for the greasy-haired man who looked angry now. 

  
“Sirius, I understand that...” began Dumbledore slowly, but Sirius cut him off.

  
“Have you managed to find Pettigrew yet? Or is the Ministry's law enforcement still as stellar as it was thirteen years ago?” he demanded in a sarcastic, yet very angry tone. Harry wanted to stop his godfather before he made things very bad, but at the same time he understood that Sirius had been holding in this anger and frustration ever since he had fled Britain after Voldemort's defeat. 

  
“We have done everything we can do find Peter, but unfortunately he continues to evade our attempts at arresting him,” said Dumbledore calmly. “But I assure you, he will be caught.”

  
Sirius snorted derisively. “Just like you assured us that the Fidelius Charm would keep Lily and James safe!” he snapped.

  
“Perhaps, if you hadn't come up with the brilliant idea of swapping Secret Keepers, they would still be alive today,” sneered the greasy-haired man.

  
“Don't you get all high and mighty on me, Snape,” snarled Sirius. “Not with your whole time as a bloody Death Eater!”

  
Harry froze for a brief moment. The man Snape was a Death Eater?! Quick as a viper, Harry drew his katana from out of nowhere and lunged forward, then pressed the blade to Snape's neck. There was shrieking from the two women, while the tiny man squeaked in shock. Dumbledore rose from his chair while Ami and Sirius just looked unsurprised by Harry's reaction. The sword hummed eagerly in Harry's grip, hungry for blood. Harry offered a little to his weapon when he pushed against Snape's neck ever so slightly, drawing a thin red line on the side which licked the sharp blade. 

  
“Harry, please lower your weapon,” said Dumbledore in a placating, yet firm tone.

  
“You're keeping a Death Eater in the castle?!” hissed Harry. 

  
“Professor Snape is no longer associated with Voldemort or the Dark Arts, and he has my utmost trust,” said Dumbledore. “As you are now a student at Hogwarts, you will treat him with the respect he is owed as a teacher.”

  
Harry scowled, but he pulled away from Snape and sheathed his katana, the sword disappearing entirely. He stepped back to stand next to Ami and said, “Very well. But if I even detect that he might betray your or us, I will not hesitate to remove his head from his shoulders.”

  
“That'll be a relief for everybody,” drawled Sirius.

  
“The boy is clearly dangerous and unstable Headmaster,” said Snape accusingly. 

  
“Well at least you know he'll do well in the tournament,” said Sirius with a shrug, earning glares from all the teachers in the room. He grinned back at them unapologetically in response.

  
“And that brings us to why we are here,” said Dumbledore. He looked at Harry and Ami and said, “As students of Hogwarts, you will be expected to obey all the school rules and respect your superiors. I am sure, however, that Lord Yoshinaga has taught you all of this already.”

  
“He has, sir,” answered Ami. 

  
“That means you can’t carry a sword around with you everywhere while you're here,” said Dumbledore, giving Harry a pointed look. Snape put his hand to his throat, right where Harry's blade had touched it for emphasis.

  
“Excuse me?” exclaimed Harry. He looked at the Headmaster. “By law I am permitted to carry my daisho wherever I go, especially as I am the sworn guard of a Japanese nobleman's daughter!”

  
“I can guarantee that neither yourself nor Miss Yoshinaga will come to any harm during your stay at Hogwarts,” promised Dumbledore sincerely. “And if something were to happen, you are permitted to carry your wand with you wherever you go.”

  
Harry still didn't like that. Without his swords, he would feel almost naked and exposed. He was good with a wand, better than most kids his age when it came to defensive magic, but Harry definitely liked the reassurance of a katana if an enemy got too close for comfort.   
However, despite his opinions on the matter, Harry sighed and nodded his acceptance of those terms.

  
“I'm using them during the tournament if I have to though,” he said firmly, giving the older people a challenging look as he silently dared them to argue with him. 

  
“Excellent. So I don't think there will be any more problems concerning this matter then,” said Dumbledore happily. Snape had a look on his face that said he didn't believe that at all. 

  
“Oh, and of course, the house sorting,” continued Dumbledore. The tall, thin woman came over, holding an old, tattered hat and she placed it on the desk before conjuring up a stool. “The Sorting Hat will decide which of the four Hogwarts Houses you belong in. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. While at Hogwarts, your House will become like your family, and good behaviour and participation in classes will earn your House points.

  
“Harry, you first,” encouraged Dumbledore. 

  
Harry cautiously approached the stool and sat down on it, while the tall woman placed the Sorting Hat onto his head. 

  
_Interesting. Very interesting_, said a voice in Harry's mind. Harry freaked out slightly, but quickly calmed when he realised it was only the Hat talking. 

  
_I see potential for greatness in you, regardless of what House you will be sorted in. You are intelligent, that much is obvious, with a desire to add upon your knowledge. Ravenclaw would be lucky to have you. But you also possess great loyalty to the ones you care about too, a trait that will certainly help you fit right in amongst the ranks of Hufflepuff._

  
_But I sense greatness, much greatness in you,_ continued the Sorting Hat. To Harry, the Hat seemed indecisive on which House Harry belonged to. He also got the sense that this had not happened before, or at least not very often. 

  
“What’s taking so long?” asked Sirius a little impatiently. However, none of the teachers had an answer for him.

  
_You would do very well in Slytherin, where the ambitious do well in. You would rise amongst the ranks quickly and prove to be a very capable leader there_, said the Hat.

  
_Amongst the children of the people who killed my parents? No thanks_, thought Harry.

  
_Not Slytherin eh?_ replied the Hat. _I see your bias towards them may diminish the truth of your potential amongst them. Was that the influence of your godfather?_

  
_It's not that. It's the fact that I'll be a target if I get sorted into Slytherin. And I just don't want to be in the same House as the man who killed my parents, as well as the children of his followers, like I said before,_ thought Harry.

  
_Hm. Very well then,_ said the Hat. _Well, if not Slytherin, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, better be “GRYFFINDOR!” _

  
Harry laughed when Sirius let out a loud sigh of relief, and the moment the Sorting Hat came off his head he hugged his godfather. Then it was Ami's turn. The Sorting Hat did not have to ponder on where to put her as long as Harry before it decided that she too belonged in the House of the Brave. That was good, because Harry would be able to continue his duties as Ami's guardian much more easily since they were going to be going to be in all of their classes together. 

  
“Congratulations Harry and Miss Yoshinaga,” said Dumbledore happily with a clap of his hands to emphasise his joy. “This is truly a cause of celebration, however time is limited and I'm afraid you need to get all of your things to Gryffindor Tower and unpack before breakfast.” 

  
With a snap of Dumbledore's fingers, Harry and Ami's trunk, including the cages that stored Yuki and Ami's pet owl Sakura disappeared with a soft pop. The tall woman stepped forward with a tight, yet genuine smile on her face.

  
“I am Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House,” she said. “Now, if you will follow me, I will take you to your dormitory.”

  
At that, Professor McGonagall set off out of Dumbledore's office. Harry looked to Sirius, who merely smiled and waved them off with a promise to see the two of them at the First Task in a few weeks' time. Harry and Ami exchanged a look with each other, before Ami shrugged and followed Professor McGonagall out. 

  
Professor McGonagall reminded Harry a lot of Sakamoto, with her strict, no-nonsense attitude and her stern look. Of course, Sakamoto was much scarier as the man carried a katana and had a reputation as one of the greatest swordsmen alive. However, Harry could tell that his new Head of House was not to be messed with, and that it would be best to stay on her good side.

  
The trio arrived atop the moving staircase in front of a portrait of a fat lady, who asked for a password. 

  
“Valhalla,” answered Professor McGonagall. To Harry's surprise, the portrait swung open, revealing a secret entrance. Professor McGonagall then turned to the two teenagers and said, “I expect great things from the both of you,” before turning in the other direction and walking away.

  
“_Interesting one, isn't she?_” commented Ami wryly.

  
“_Don't give her too much of a hard time. Sirius said she was one of his favourite teachers,_” said Harry. “_Come on, let's settle in to our new home.”_

  
“_Home_,” echoed Ami dryly while they walked through the portrait hole. “_Like this place will ever be a home to... wow.”_

  
Ami had trailed off at the sight of the Gryffindor common room. It was large and spacious, with red and gold either hanging or painted everywhere to the point where it almost hurt Harry's eyes. There were chairs and tables spread out everywhere for students to study or hang out. There were couches as well which surrounded a fireplace that was currently burning, giving off a homely feeling to the common room.

  
“This is nice,” commented Harry. Ami looked at him like he had grown a second head.

  
“_Are you kidding me? This place looks amazing!_” she exclaimed happily in rapid Japanese. That drew the attention of a few of the students who were studying in the common room, and they did a double take at the two kids who were definitely not every day students. One of them raced off past Harry and Ami out of the common room, and Harry sighed in resignation.

  
“_And here I was hoping that our first day would be a quiet one_,” he said glumly.

  
“_It was bound to happen sooner or later,_” said Ami. Harry grunted, but then checked the time on his watch to see that it was almost eight o'clock. He guessed that breakfast would be starting shortly, so he left Ami to unpack his things in his new dormitory.

  
The dormitory, like the common room, was decorated almost entirely in Gryffindor colours, including the four-poster bed curtains and bedsheets. Harry wondered if every House's living quarters were decorated similarly with their own House colours. In her cage, Yuki let out a soft meow to signal her distress at still being locked in her cage. Harry took pity on her and let her out, and the leopard cub instantly sprang onto Harry's new bed and began taking in all the new sights and smells curiously. Harry took a few minutes to send his clothes and other things into the available draws with a flick of his wand then, once satisfied, he looked to his familiar. 

  
“_Be good_,” he ordered. Yuki instantly lay down across Harry's bed and let out a yawn, her silver eyes not living him. Harry smiled before heading down to the common room to find Ami already waiting for him.

  
“_Did you unpack everything with your bare hands?_” She asked sarcastically.

  
“_Had to make sure Yuki was settled in_,” replied Harry. “_Shall we?_” 

  
The duo left the common room to head down to the Great Hall. They made sure to follow a group of students, keeping their heads down so as to not draw attention to themselves, though Harry could hear many passers-by muttering that the Boy-Who-Lived had been spotted in the castle. Thankfully though, no one seemed to notice him and Ami, though it would be inevitable by the time Dumbledore made the announcement. If he did, that was.

  
The Great Hall was spectacular, Harry decided. The ceiling was enchanted to resemble the sky outside, which right now was clear, revealing the stars and moon that shone brightly. Candles floated harmlessly above them as well, lighting up the hall. Students were already seated, digging in to the huge amounts of food that surely no one could eat all of. Harry looked around for which table they should sit at, before finding the one occupied by students wearing red and gold ties. He and Ami sat down at the end of the table opposite each other, away from the other kids and began helping themselves to food.

  
“_Where the hell is the rice?_” muttered Ami indignantly. 

  
“_Or the fresh fish_,” added Harry.

  
Ami pushed her plate away in disgust. “_This food will make me fat, I swear_,” she huffed.

  
Harry only shrugged. “_We could always ask the cooks to make us some proper food_,” he suggested. 

  
Ami looked thoughtful at that, but then nodded in agreement. Just then however, somebody sat down next to Ami. Harry looked up to see it was none other than Hermione Granger, who was giving the Japanese girl a beaming smile. 

  
“You never told me you were transferring to Hogwarts,” she said in an accusatory tone, but the smile made the tone more teasing. 

  
“I wanted to keep it a surprise,” said Ami. The two girls hugged, then Hermione looked at Harry like she had never seen him before. That was technically true, as when they had met Harry had a lot of Cosmetic Charms on his face to disguise his identity. 

  
“Hello, I'm Hermione Granger, and you are?” she asked.

  
“Harry Potter,” said Harry. Hermione's eyes widened like saucers at the revelation, and she glanced up to Harry's forehead to search for the scar, but he had hidden it underneath his long hair so nobody would notice it. 

  
“Wow, it's truly an honour to meet you,” said Hermione in an awed voice.

  
“It's a pleasure to meet you as well Hermione. But please, I'm just a kid like you so there’s no need to gawk at me,” said Harry.

  
Hermione's open mouth slammed shut and her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, but she recovered quickly to say, “Sorry.”

  
Harry brushed off the apology however and said, “So you are the one who Ami was talking about for half the summer.”

  
Ami gave him a look to ask why he was acting like he'd never met the bushy-haired girl, but Harry shook his head the slightest fraction to ward her off. He decided that the alias of Hanzo was going to be his little secret that he could use to get to places Harry Potter couldn't and gather intel. 

  
“Well, Ami never mentioned that she was friends with you,” countered Hermione with a laugh.

  
“It was a secret known only to a few,” said Ami. “For his own safety, you know.”

  
Hermione's face became suddenly understanding and she nodded her head, but then she looked down at Harry and Ami's untouched plates of food.

  
“Why are you not eating? You really need to build up your energy you know, we have a lot of classes to attend today,” she chastised. “That reminds me, What classes do you two have today?”

  
“Um,” Harry grabbed his timetable, and after giving it a brief once-over, said, “Defence Against the Dark Arts first, then Herbology and Potions.” 

  
“Splendid! We have the same classes together!” exclaimed Hermione happily. “But I have to warn you, Professor Snape, the Potion's teacher doesn't like Gryffindor very much.”

  
“That's an understatement,” said a new voice, belonging to none other than Ron Weasley. “Snape hates anyone not from Slytherin House. The slimy git's the Head of the Snakes, and he really loves to take points of Gryffindor House for simply breathing.”

  
“Ron,” chided Hermione, though Harry noted that she didn't disagree with the redhead's statement. 

  
But then it seemed like Ron suddenly realised who he was sitting with. “Bloody hell, is that you Ami?” he exclaimed.

  
“Hello Ron,” greeted Ami warmly. 

  
“And you are...” Ron trailed off, then his eyes widened in shock. “Sweet Merlin's beard! You're Harry Potter!” 

  
Ron said that last part so loudly that half the hall turned in his direction, their own eyes wide with surprise and awe. 

  
“Well would you look at the time! We need to be off to class!” said Harry quickly and sarcastically when he saw more people coming towards him. He grabbed his bag, then took Ami by the arm and made a dash for the exit together, followed quickly by Ron and Hermione. 

  
Harry and Ami only made it to the first floor when they stopped, and Harry turned to give the other two Gryffindors a sheepish grin.

  
“Actually, I don't know how to get to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom,” he admitted. 

  
Hermione huffed impatiently and took the lead, the other three following closely behind. At one point Ron came up to stand next to Harry and smiled ruefully.

  
“Er, I'm sorry that I blurted your name so loudly,” he said. “I er, tend to be a little impulsive sometimes.”

  
“Apology accepted,” said Harry easily. 

  
“I’m Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley,” said Ron, sticking out his hand towards Harry.

  
“Harry Potter obviously,” replied the raven-haired boy with a grin as he shook Ron's hand. “Ami told me a lot about you and your family. She really enjoyed her trip to the World Cup.”

  
“She never mentioned your name though,” said Ron a little suspiciously.

  
Harry shrugged. “I asked her not to. My godfather didn't think I would be safe if people knew where I was,” he said. 

  
“Oh, well I guess that makes sense, what with You-Know-Who and his followers and all,” said Ron. 

  
“Yeah,” said Harry. 

  
“We're here,” said Hermione, interrupting Harry's thoughts. Then she gave the two newcomers a warning look. “I must warn you however, Professor Moody is a little... eccentric.”

  
“By that she means he's barking mad,” iterated Ron. Hermione glared at the redhead in response. 

  
Ami and Harry exchanged a look with each other.

  
“It's only the first day at school, what could go wrong?” said Ami.   



	7. Run Ins

The first week integrating into Hogwarts was very quick and almost overwhelming for Harry. It was difficult to endure the fame of being the Boy Who Lived, which wasn't entirely surprising. While the events of that fateful night that led to the deaths of his parents and Voldemort's banishment was well-known even in Japan, in the United Kingdom, the story was the stuff of legend. And Harry hated it, having to put up with the constant staring and whispering behind his back. 

  
It seemed many of the whisperings about him were either in awe of having a famous boy living amongst the student body, wondering where'd he'd been for the past thirteen years, or how he'd managed to even put his name in the Goblet of Fire. Ami seemed to be dealing with the popularity of being the new kid, but then again it wasn't surprising for Harry. She was, after all, the daughter of the last daimyo in Japan.

  
And Harry had completely overlooked the order from the Headmaster to carry weapons around the castle. Technically, Harry didn’t have his katana and wakizashi on his person, but the sleeves of all his shirts and robes had been enchanted so that they acted almost like portals to his trunk where he kept his swords. If there was trouble that required a sharp edge to fix, Harry could simply reach into his robes and whip out his swords. Oh, how he looked forward to seeing the look on Dumbledore's face if a situation like that did happen.

  
For classes, they were informative, if a little boring at times. It was interesting for Harry to note the differences between the culture he was born from and the culture he was raised in, as well as how they perceived magic. For the Europeans, magic was a tool to be used, while the Asian cultures believed magic to be something was influenced everything, and wizards, witches and all manner of magical creatures were merely vessels for it to carry out its will. Because of that Harry was tempted to argue with his teachers on certain points they made, but kept his mouth shut so as to not draw any more attention that he didn't need or want. 

  
As for the teachers, well, they were certainly different from the likes of Lord Yoshinaga and Sakamoto. Most of them were nice enough, such as Professors Sprout, the Herbology teacher and Flitwick, the Charms teacher. Others like Professor McGonagall were strict but fair, though apparently she expected a lot from Harry because his father was a natural at Transfiguration. Actually, the Head of Gryffindor reminded Harry very much of Sakamoto, down to the tight scowl and intimidating look she made to get students to behave. And Professor Moody was certainly an absolute madman, but his classes were probably the most enjoyable for Harry simply because of the practical work he liked doing, which allowed the young samurai to stretch his muscles, both magical and literal a little bit.

  
And then there was Snape. Sirius had warned Harry and Ami both that the greasy git would be out for the both of them, especially Harry. His father and Snape had been enemies in school, and apparently that animosity was extended to the posterity as well. Every chance Snape got in class, he would insult Harry, and if that didn't work he would turn on belittling Ami. Though that stopped immediately after Harry threatened the Potions' Master with a slow death if he targeted Ami ever again. But Snape hated Harry, though he could confidently say the feeling was mutual.

  
Despite some downsides to being at Hogwarts, there were a lot of good things too. Harry had quickly become friends with the other Gryffindor boys his age: Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom. Though he was friends with them, it was Ron Weasley who had quickly become his best friend after Ami. Though he could be a bit dense at times, and seemed to have a bit of an inferiority complex when it came to his brothers and sister, he was loyal, and hadn't judged Harry immediately upon meeting him officially. Hermione also became a very close friend, more so to Ami, but Harry thought that was because the bushy-haired girl was happy to finally have a friend her own age who was also the same gender. 

  
It was one week before the First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament that Harry met his first real obstacle, in the form of magical Britain's leading newspaper Daily Prophet reporter Rita Skeeter. Now, Japan had its fair share of nosey idiots who liked to dig their noses into things they had no right to, but this particular woman took the cake. 

  
Harry met her and the wand-weighing ceremony, where photos were taken of himself and the 6 champions; Beauxbatons' Fleur Delacour, Durmstrang's Viktor Krum (yes, the very same) and Hogwarts' own Hufflepuff legend Cedric Diggory. The wandmaker, a creepy old man (then again, every other wandmaker Harry had ever met was a little barmy) by the name of Ollivander as the one who measured each champion's wand, and seemed genuinely surprised by the fact that Harry's wand was made of cherry.

  
“The core, I do not recognise it,” said Ollivander.

  
“Nine-tailed kitsune and Oni hair,” said Harry. The other three champions gave him a questioning look, but Ollivander hummed thoughtfully.  
“A double core of two very powerful magical wands most curious,” said the old man. “Come speak to me after the interviews, I would very much desire to talk about your unique wand.”

  
Harry gave Ollivander an inquiring look, but the old man had already moved on to inspect Krum's wand.

  
Cedric himself was a nice enough bloke, humble and modest despite his popularity, and didn't seem to indulge in the rumours surrounding Harry like most of the rest of the school did. But at this moment, Harry' focus wasn't on the tall, handsome Hufflepuff champion, it was on Rita Skeeter. 

  
Harry was chosen to be the first interviewee, and the woman practically shoved him into the privacy of a broom cupboard. Up close, he could smell the excessive amount of perfume Skeeter had used, making his eyes water and his nose sting. 

  
“This is cozy,” said Skeeter suggestively. 

  
“From a certain point of view,” replied Harry neutrally.

  
With a flick of her wand, to buckets turned upside down, and one of them smacked Harry in the back of his knees to force him to sit down while Skeeter did the same, minus the aggressive bucket.

  
“You don't mind if I use a Quik-Quotes Quill, do you?” asked Skeeter.

  
“I do, actually,” said Harry. He knew that the enchanted quills had a tendency to not be completely honest with whatever it was writing about, so he'd developed a healthy disregard for them. Skeeter looked like she was about to argue, but Harry gave her a look to show that he wouldn't budge. She huffed in annoyance, then put away the enchanted quill and replaced it with a traditional hand-held quill and notepad. 

  
“So Harry, the Boy Who Lived and Vanished, where have you been?” asked Skeeter.

  
“Japan,” answered Harry.

  
Skeeter raised a curious eyebrow. “This whole time? If I might ask, where in Japan? Have you been anywhere else?” she asked inquisitively. 

  
“Yes this whole time, no, I'm not at liberty to say where and I've been on holidays to South Korea a couple of times,” said Harry, answering all three questions at once. 

  
Skeeter clearly wasn’t happy with the straight answers Harry gave her based on the deadpan look she gave him, but he was more than glad that he'd asked her to put away the Quik-Quotes-Quill. 

  
“Come Harry, we need details! The whole wizarding world's been wondering where you've been for the last thirteen years!” said Skeeter dramatically.

  
“I wasn't aware that anyone cared about me here,” said Harry dryly. 

  
“Of course we do!” said Skeeter scandalously. Then she sobered up and looked Harry dead in the eye. “Speaking of caring people, how do you think your parents would feel if they saw you now? Proud?”

  
“Probably not,” said Harry. “From what my godfather's told me about them, I think my mother would have murdered me before anything they could throw at me in the tournament ever gets the chance to.”

  
“Your godfather! Tell me about him? What was it like to be raised by the man who was believed to have betrayed your parents?” asked Skeeter.

  
“First off, Sirius was never a traitor,” snapped Harry angrily. “And I think he raised me the best way he knew how, which I'm grateful for.”

  
“But do you think it was smart of your godfather to have taken you away from everything you cared about? Friends? Family?”

  
Harry scowled at Skeeter. “I was only a baby when we left Britain, but as far as I know Sirius and myself had no one else had anybody left, so leaving wasn't that hard a decision to make,” he said. 

  
“Yet Mr Black took you away from your people, your culture. Do you think that has negatively impacted you in any way?” asked Skeeter.

Without her enchanted quill, it seemed that Skeeter had to actually work for her interview now instead of convoluting the facts to suit her needs. Maybe finally the blasted woman would have to earn her stripes as a reporter. 

  
“No, I don't think so at all,” said Harry. “Sirius still taught me everything he knew about magical Britain and its customs, but I’m really glad I was away. I think he wanted me to have a normal childhood.” Though Harry's childhood had been anything but normal, what with the being trained by an order of ancient magical warriors and everything. 

  
“Harry, a boy of twelve years-“ began Skeeter.

  
“I'm fourteen,” corrected Harry.

  
“Of age,” continued Skeeter like she hadn't been interrupted, “up against three other champions with vastly more knowledge and experience than you. How do you feel? Afraid? Or do you actually believe that you have a chance to win this tournament?”

  
“I think that I've learned enough in my lifetime to think that I'll do okay. I don't care about winning, but I'll do my best to at least survive,” said Harry.

  
“But why have you come out of hiding now? Was it the temptation of eternal glory that you decided was an opportunity to pass up?” asked Skeeter.

  
Harry’s scowl deepened. “I already told you that I don't care about winning,” he said.

  
“Of course not,” said Skeeter in a tone that meant she didn't actually believe him. “But how did you manage to put your name in the Goblet of Fire? Do your your godfather have hidden contacts that you used?”

  
“What the-?” Harry couldn't believe this woman! Did she actually believe the words that came out of her mouth? “I don't know anybody here,” he gritted out. 

  
“And what about the people who accompanied you back to your home? You've already mentioned your godfather, but what about the girl who came to Hogwarts with you?” asked Skeeter, a sly smirk on her face. She clearly delighted in seeing Harry's discomfort. “What was her name? Amy Yoshi-whatever. Who is she to you? A friend? Or perhaps more?”

  
Harry blinked twice, then stood up. “This interview is over,” he stated firmly, and without waiting for a response from Skeeter, he walked out of the broom cupboard and back into the room where the other champions were waiting. 

  
“How was it?” asked Cedric.

  
“I'd watch out for that woman,” said Harry, then he looked around the room. “Where did Ollivander go?” he asked, remembering the winemaker’s request from before.

  
“Um, I think he mentioned something about going to the Black Lake,” said Cedric.

  
Harry nodded, then promptly left the trophy room where the photos and interviews were being held. The journey down to the lake took some time, and Harry was still angry about that sham of an interview with Skeeter. Later, he would have to find somewhere private to perform his kata and meditate, maybe even have a little sparring match with Ami too if she was available. Harry snorted at that though. Since coming to Hogwarts, Ami had practically been hounded by Hermione for information about magical Japan and, well, Japan as a whole, barely giving the Japanese girl time to herself. 

  
Harry spotted Ollivander near the bank of the lake, a thick tome that looked heavier than the wandmaker himself in his hands. As Harry got closer, he noticed that it was actually a book on magical creatures and the properties their different body parts would have in wand cores. Harry smirked, apparently Ollivander didn't understand the significance of Harry's dual-cored wand. 

  
When the old man saw Harry coming, he smiled creepily up at him.

  
“Ah, Mr Potter! Thank you for acquiescing to my request to meet!” said Ollivander in a friendly enough tone. The man seemed harmless enough, but Harry could help but feel like his very soul was being peered into because of Ollivander's piercing grey eyes. 

  
“I'm happy to have done so,” said Harry. By force of habit, he knelt down next to the ancient wandmaker in seiza position, then waited expectantly. 

  
“Your wand, I have never quite heard of a wand as unique as yours, or one with as much potential to perform many great things,” said Ollivander. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Well, save perhaps the Elder Wand, but that's a story for another time I suppose.” 

  
“Um... thank you?” said Harry, frowning in confusion slightly. 

  
“Curious, most curious indeed. Tell me Mr Potter, who was the man who made your wand?” asked Ollivander. 

  
“No one actually knows his real name, but he calls himself the Souzosha, or ‘One who creates,’” said Harry. 

  
“Oh, I have heard of him. A very accomplished wandmaker in Asia, very accomplished indeed,” said Ollivander. “I have another few questions for you, if you don't mind me asking?”

  
“Go for it,” said Harry. 

  
“What does the wood of your wand symbolise?” asked Ollivander. 

  
“The _sakura_, or cherry tree is considered sacred in Japan,” said Harry. “I don't know a whole lot about it, but apparently no one really knows much about wands made of sakura wood other than anyone who does possess it is considered very magically powerful.”

  
“Curious, curious,” said Ollivander. Harry noticed that he had a habit of repeating the same words when he was thinking. “And the wand's core?” 

  
“Honestly sir, I'm just as in the dark as you are,” admitted Harry. “Not many people get a kitsune hair for a core, let alone a nine-tailed kitsune. Wait, you know what a kitsune is right?”

  
“Not really,” said Ollivander.

  
“They're magical foxes that can have multiple tails. The more tails, the more powerful they are. Nine is the most a kitsune can have, and they're tricksters. Anything is a game to them, but they’re loyal and protective of the areas they live in. They're not Dark creatures, but they're not exactly on the Light side either,” explained Harry. 

  
“Interesting,” said Ollivander thoughtfully. “And the... what was it you called it? An oni?”

  
“A Japanese demon. Powerful, dangerous and Dark,” said Harry. “The only other person I know who has an oni hair is Lord Yoshinaga, and he's one of the most powerful sorcerers alive.”

  
“This is quite the riddle you've presented to me, Mr Potter,” said Ollivander. “Cherry wood with a kitsune and oni hairs for a core. Most interesting indeed.”

  
“Forgive me for asking sir but, what's interesting about all this?” asked Harry. 

  
“This conversation is merely to sate my own curiosity, Mr Potter,” said Ollivander. “Your wand is a sign that you will become a great wizard one day. But be warned, not all great wizards are good.”

  
Harry frowned slightly at that. The way Ollivander spoke, it was almost as if he knew something no one else did. 

  
“I'll... keep that in mind,” he said hesitantly. Wow, Ollivander really was a creepy old man.

* * *

Harry was in a spare room on the seventh floor that he'd stumbled upon, practising his kata and honing his skills. He'd stumbled upon this room by accident, and had been surprised to find that the room had everything he needed for his training. There was a rack of different sized and shaped bokken against one wall on the far side, the floors were padded, and there even a few training dummies that moved on their own magically, allowing Harry to get a decent sparring session in. There was even a stand that had actual samurai armour on it, leading Harry to believe that the room was enchanted to suit the needs of whoever was in it.

  
He was sweating in his hakama, and a few strands of hair had come loose from his topknot, framing his sweaty, red face, but Harry was happy. It was the second weekend that he'd been in Hogwarts, and next week the First Task would be happening. He had no idea what he was going to be up against, but he'd seen a small area about the same size as the school's Quidditch pitch being erected closer to the mountains a few days ago. Harry deduced that he was probably going to be fighting something, but the question was what he was going to fight. 

  
Up against three dummies at the same time, Harry gripped his bokken tightly. The dummies were set on the hardest difficulty, forcing Harry to actually try to beat them. That being said, the dummies were still not anywhere near the level of a living, breathing samurai who had years of experience behind them, like Sakamoto or Lord Yoshinaga, but they served their purpose well enough. 

  
The first dummy attacked, bokken raised over its head. Harry spun out of the way, parrying the attack from the second dummy at the same time and readied his stance yet again. The three dummies came at him again, so he fought hard, parrying the numerous attacks coming from multiple directions at once. The battle only lasted a short moment before Harry finished the dummies off one by one until they were laying on the ground in pieces.

  
“End,” he said, breathing hard. 

  
The dummies reformed good as new again and went to the corner of the room near the racks while Harry grabbed a sweat towel and dried his face off with it. He checked the time, and seeing he had half an hour till curfew, knelt down on a mat and closed his eyes. Harry focussed on getting his breathing back to normal, and stretched out with his mind, using all of his senses to bring himself back into balance. The room was quiet, making it very easy for Harry to bring himself in Zen, and once he was settled down, Harry stood up, got changed into some regular clothes and left the strange room...

  
Only to bump into somebody. 

  
Both Harry and the other person fell to the ground, with the stranger falling right on top of Harry. The was a brief scuffle before Harry managed to clear his head, and looked up into the eyes of one of the prettiest girls he had ever met. She was of Asian descent, with long, black hair, almond-shaped eyes and impossibly smooth skin. She was also a Ravenclaw, judging by the blue on her robes and school tie.

  
“I'm so sorry! I didn't see where I was going!” said the girl in an embarrassed tone. Harry noticed that she had a Scottish accent. It was noticeable, but not as thick as Professor McGonagall's. 

  
“Are you alright?” asked the girl. She was the first to stand, and she helped Harry up onto his own feet.

  
“Yeah, I'm fine,” said Harry. He brushed his hair away from his eyes, and then the girl looked surprised.

  
“You're Harry Potter,” she breathed in in shock. 

  
Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “That's my name,” he said. He mustn't have been able to keep the sarcasm from his voice, because the girl blanched away slightly. 

  
“Sorry, you probably get that a lot these days. I didn't mean it like that,” she said.

  
“No, it's fine really,” assured Harry. 

  
“I'm Cho. Cho Chang,” introduced the girl, offering her hand out. Harry was still used to greeting people by bowing that he almost forgot to take the offered hand, but he managed to shale it before the hesitance got too awkward. 

  
“Chang. Is your family originally from China?” asked Harry.

  
“My father is Chinese, but my mum's Korean,” said Cho, looking quite pleased that Harry had made the connection. “How did you know?”

  
“I grew up in Japan, but I know a few Chinese people who work at the Japanese Ministry as ambassadors,” answered Harry. Actually, Lord Yoshinaga knew those people, Harry had only seen them in passing. 

  
“Japan? That must have been very cool. My parents told me that the ancient samurai still exist even today, have you met any of them?” asked Cho. In the back of Harry's mind, he wondered if Cho was some sort of spy, but that was quickly dismissed. She looked very genuine and innocent with her enquiry.

  
“I've met a few of them, but you'd be better talking to my friend Ami about them. Her father actually is a samurai,” said Harry. He didn't want word to get out that he himself was a crazy warrior, especially because that Skeeter woman might try something. 

  
“Wow, that's really cool,” said Cho in slight awe. Then she gave him a quizzical look. “What are you doing out here this late? And why are you so sweaty?”

  
“Oh, I was...” Harry trailed off as he thought of an answer. He couldn't bloody well tell a girl he'd literally just met that he was slicing up dummies with a wooden sword, no matter how pretty he thought she was! 

  
“I was training. For the First Task,” he said lamely. 

  
“Oh, that makes sense,” said Cho. 

  
“I guess I could ask you the same question.”

  
“I'm a prefect, so I'm on patrol for the night.”

  
“Oh.” 

  
And awkward silence fell between the two of them. Harry found himself unable to not look at Cho, because really, she was _very_ pretty. Almost absurdly so. Harry hadn't thought a girl was pretty since he was eleven, back when one of Lord Yoshinaga’s lieutenant’s daughter, a girl named Emiri had lived at Yoshinaga castle. But once that girl left to attend Mahoutokoro, Harry's fancy for the girl faded into something more platonic. 

  
Right now, looking at Cho, he was reminded once more of that little boy crush he had on Emiri, which made him wonder _why_ he was comparing the two girls. 

  
“Well, it’s getting late I should go before I get detention or something,” Harry said quickly, looking down at his wrist to check the watch that currently _wasn't_ on his wrist. Hopefully Cho didn't notice that.

  
“Right. Well, I'll see you around Harry,” said Cho. 

  
Harry hoped he wasn't imagining the hopeful sound in her voice, but he nodded and said, “Yeah. See you around,” before heading in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. 

  
Back in the common room, Harry saw that Ami, Ron and Hermione were sitting on the plush couches by the fireplace. They all looked up at him, with a small scowl on Hermione's face.

  
“Where have you been?” asked the bushy-haired witch. 

  
“I was training,” said Harry. 

  
“Training? What do you mean training?” said Ron.

  
“For the First Task,” said Harry. 

  
Ami gave him a knowing look, showing that she knew exactly what he was really doing, but Harry's excuse seemed to mollify Ron and Hermione. They chatted for a few minutes before Ron and Hermione went up to bed, but not before the latter admonished Harry to have a shower because he stunk. Once the other two were gone, Ami rounded on Harry.

  
“_You could have brought me along, you know_,” she said. “_I could have used the exercise myself, all this fatty English food is making me fat_.”

  
“_Sorry. It was just a long day and I forgot_,” said Harry ruefully. 

  
“_How was the wand-weighing ceremony?_” asked Ami after accepting his excuse.

  
Harry sighed. “_Long, boring and frustrating_,” he said tiredly. “_I got interviewed by some woman who was asking too many probing questions, and if she couldn't get that then she was trying to twist my own words into something she favoured instead of the truth._”

  
“_Sounds like you had your fun,_” snorted Ami. “_I thought reporters were supposed to tell the truth?_”

  
“_This isn't Japan Ami_,” Harry reminded his best friend. “_The people here are... less honourable._” 

  
_“Isn't that the truth.”_

  
In truth, Harry was tired of all that. At least back at Yoshinaga Castle, everyone spoke their mind and were open with their intentions. Even Mitsuhide, the sly bastard he was, was a relatively open person. But so far, all the people who possessed any real authority that Harry had met so far had an agenda. Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports seemed to have a problem, and at least once so far he had offered Harry his help in the Triwizard Tournament. That showed the man was up to something. Rita Skeeter needed no explanation, and even Dumbledore seemed to have an agenda regarding Harry. 

  
“_Well, not everyone here lives dishonourably. Ron and Hermione are great. Besides, your father has to deal with conniving vipers at the Japan Ministry all the time as well,_” said Harry. “_Just think of being here, especially dealing with that Malfoy prat and Dumbledore as practice for when you eventually become Lady Yoshinaga.” _

  
_“I'd rather not be reminded of my duty right now, Harry,_” groaned Ami. She nestled closer to Harry, but then lurched back quickly with a disgusted look on her face. “_Hermione was right, you do smell bad_,” she said as she pinched her nose.

  
Harry laughed, but then he stood up and grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “_I should probably shower now before the stink get stuck to me forever,_” he said. 

  
“_Please do that, and then tomorrow you can help me with my Charms homework_,” said Ami.

  
Harry smirked. _“I thought that's what Hermione was for?” _

  
“_Go wash yourself you fool_!” 

  
Harry laughed all the way up the stairs until he was in the bathroom. 


End file.
